silver case of curious design, "but, if no one objects, I will light a cigarette!"

"I can't help it," cried Nathalie, laughing until the tears were in her eyes, "did you hear the way he said that word 'cigarette,'—with such a lingering over each syllable? I am sure you are a Spaniard, Mr. Farr, in spite of New Jersey."

"I knew it," Nan put in, "the moment you spoke."

"Ah," exclaimed Nathalie, drawing back in mock affright, "you are an exile."

"How interesting," spoke Nan. "Do tell us all about it." 45

45

"About what?" queried Farr coolly, and Nan subsided, feeling suddenly very much embarrassed.

Eleanor Hill caught an expression half impatient in Farr's eyes, and turned warningly to Nathalie.

"You will be sorry."

"When I'm sober," interrupted the young girl merrily.

"What a rowdy you are, Nat; Helen is looking at you most disapprovingly."

A shrug of the shoulders was Nathalie's only answer, and starting up she crossed over, and stood before Farr, where he sat at Jean's side.

"You have been very good and patient," she assured him with a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes, "and now I am going to reward you by unpacking the luncheon hamper."

"That's a good idea," cried Dick; "I am almost starved to death."

"What delicious salad," exclaimed Churchill a few moments later, as they sat about the open hamper. "Miss Helen, you are a culinary artist."

Helen smiled her thanks.

"May I not sit by you, Eleanor," pleaded Clifford Archer, dropping down on the deck at her side. "With you near me I could never know hunger or thirst."

"Nonsense," frowning on him in seeming disapproval. "I think your appetite is one which stands you in good stead."

He was a handsome youth, graceful in the extreme. It was a constant source of annoyance to Eleanor Hill that she found him so 

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