of the time he lived on the shore, in the house that he had built. Dr.
DeLancey once asked him if he ever moved the yacht from its moorings, and
wanted to bet that the sail covers were stuffed with hay. Thomas Cathcart
Blake grinned and said that, as for taking the yacht out to sea, he was
afraid of getting it wet; and he wouldn't want to bet as to what the sail
covers were stuffed with because it might be excelsior, or cotton, or any
one of a number of things.

They always had much company at "The Lawns," which was the name of the
house, and on the "Idlesse," which was the name of the yacht that seldom
sailed; although Dr. DeLancey begged them to rechristen it "The Dock," or
"The Stake Boat," or something of the sort, which he thought would be
much more appropriate. And among this company, was a great deal, the
widow of Jimmy Blair, and her daughter.

Young Jack Schuyler and young Tom Blake got home from college that year
about the middle of June. Kathryn Blair was a few days later, owing to
certain nonacademic festivities which she didn't want to miss. You can
know, how popular and attractive and altogether charming she was when I
tell you that she was like her mother at her age; and all New York knows
how hard it was even for Jimmy Blair--and there have been very few Jimmy
Blairs, you know--to make any perceptible progress amid the choking
masses of his competing fellows.

Jack Schuyler and Tom Blake went down to the train, in a trap, to meet
her. They hardly recognized the girl with whom they had pillow-fought and
leopard-stalked in the dainty figure that descended from the dusty train.
A year, with a girl of eighteen, means vast changes; and when that year
has been spent at boarding school, it means changes yet more vast,
infinitely. Thus, it was that Jack Schuyler and Tom Blake stood, jaws