"Oh, wouldn't it be delightful!" came from Annette at last. 

 "What?" asked Philip. 

 "Why, Monsieur LeConte says he'll take six of us out in his catboat tomorrow for a fishing-trip on the Gulf." 

 "Hum," drily. 

 "And I'll get Natalie and her cousins." 

 "Yes," still more drily. 

 Annette chattered on, entirely oblivious of the strainedness of the men's adieux, and still chattered as they drove through the 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 murderous desire to throw the pink sun-bonnet and its owner into the sea, when Natalie whispered audibly to one of her cousins that "Mees Annette act nice wit' her lovare." 

 The sun was banking up flaming pillars of rose and gold in the west when the little "Virginie" rounded Cat 

 Prev. P 16/65 next