“Yes,” said I.
“The church where the strawberry festival was held?”
“Yes.”
Colton struck a match to relight his cigar.
“Shouldn't think that would be a pleasant reminder to either of you,” he observed. “I am mighty sure it wasn't to me.”
Miss Colton did not answer, nor did I.
The breeze sprang up again soon after, from a different quarter this time, but the tide had ebbed so far that I was obliged to make the detour around the end of the flat upon which Victor had grounded the dingy. “Big Jim” raised himself on his elbow.
“Hello!” he exclaimed, “here's another joyful spot. Mabel, it was along here somewhere that Paine acquired the habit of carrying you about like a bundle. It must have been a picturesque performance. Wish I might have seen it.”
He laughed heartily.
“Father,” said the young lady, coldly, “don't be silly—please.”