pines.

"I did not know that you were going to take fishermen and
marchands into the bosom of your social set when you came here,"
growled Philip, at last.

"But, Cousin Phil, can't you see he is a gentleman? The fact
that he makes no excuses or protestations is a proof."

"You are a fool," was the polite response.

Still, at six o'clock next morning, there was a little crowd of
seven upon the pier, laughing and chatting at the little
"Virginie" dipping her bows in the water and flapping her sails
in the brisk wind. Natalie's pink bonnet blushed in the early
sunshine, and Natalie's mamma, comely and portly, did chaperonage
duty. It was not long before the sails gave swell into the
breeze and the little boat scurried to the Sound. Past the
lighthouse on its gawky iron stalls, she flew, and now rounded
the white sands of Cat Island.

"Bravo, the Gulf!" sang a voice on the lookout. The little boat
dipped, halted an instant, then rushed fast into the blue Gulf
waters.

"We will anchor here," said the host, "have luncheon, and fish."

Philip could not exactly understand why the fisherman should sit
so close to Annette and whisper so much into her ears. He chafed
at her acting the part of hostess, and was possessed of a