silver half-dollar. Ordinarily dull pink, this spot was slowly mottling
in blues and purples: though evidently not with reference to the perils
of the deep, so narrowly escaped by her only child.

"The talk of the place!--what do you mean?" she asked in a voice that
sounded dangerous. "A man!--what man? Speak? What right did he have to
get into your boat?"

"Of course he had _no_ right to get into my boat, mamma," said Carlisle,
dribbling water. "None whatever. That is what I told him, from the
beginning. His name is Dalhousie. I--that part makes no dif--"

"Dalhousie! Colonel Dalhousie's son!--that young sot! Why, you don't
know him, do you?--you never met him in your life--"

"Please don't storm and rant, mamma. It only makes things worse. As I
was saying, when you interrupted, I--I met this man once--a long time
ago. Some one introduced him, I suppose. That must have been it. I--I've
never seen him from that time. He hadn't the faintest right to get into
my boat--not the faintest. He--"

"But what did he do it _for_? What did he want? What was his purpose, I
say?"

Carlisle turned away with a wet skirt to hang. It was certainly very
difficult to explain things to mamma.

"Oh, mamma!--How can I tell you why he wanted to get into my boat? All
this just wastes time. Perhaps he thought he would have a little
flirtation. Perhaps he wanted to rest from his--"