said was evidently true. Allan Harrowby left suddenly for the north an hour ago."
The girl stood still, looking with wide eyes out over the sea.
"Left—for the north," she repeated. There was a long silence. At length she turned to Minot, a queer light in her eyes. "Of course, you'll go after him and bring him back?" she asked.
"No." Minot bowed his head. "I know I must have looked rather silly of late. But if you think I did the things I've done because I chose to—you're wrong. If you think I did them because I didn't love you—you're wrong, too. Oh, I—"
"Mr. Minot!"
"I can't help it. I know it's indecently soon—I've got to tell you just the same. There's been so much in the way—I'm wild to say it now. I love you."
The water breaking on the ancient stones below seemed to be repeating "Sh—sh," but Minot paid no heed to the warning.
"I've cared for you," he went on, "ever since that morning on the train when we raced the
