Here, too, come, every year, the Wolfers. In fact, to sum it up, the

party is composed of Nell's and Drake's dearest and tried friends, and

they one and all have grown to love Shorne Mills almost as keenly as

Nell and Drake themselves do. Nell is proud of Anglemere, and the other

places which her husband has inherited, but there is a certain corner in

her heart which is reserved for the little fishing place in which she

first saw, and learned to love, "Drake Vernon."

Watch them as they go down the steep and narrow way to the pier. It is a

July evening; the sun is still bright, but the shadows are casting a

purple tint on the hills beyond the moor; a faint breeze ripples the

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opaline bay; the fishing boats are gliding in like "painted ships on a

painted ocean"; the tinkle of the cow bells mingles with the shrill cry

of the curlew and the guillemot. The _Seagull_ lies at anchor in the bay

ready to sail at a moment's notice. But Drake does not signal for the

dinghy as Nell and he reach the pier, for, though they are going for a

sail, it is not in the stately yacht.

By the slip lies an old herring boat, with _Annie Laurie_ painted on its

stern, and Brownie has got the sail up and stands waiting with a smile

to help his beloved "Miss Nell" into the old boat. Nell lays her hand

upon his shoulder as of old, and steps in and takes the tiller; Drake

makes taut the sheet, and the old boat glides away from the slip and

sails out into the open.

Drake looks up at the wind with a sailor's eye, and glances at Nell. He

does not speak, but she understands, and she steers the _Annie Laurie_

for the little piece of smooth beach which leads to the cave under the

cliff. It is to this point they nearly always make; for was it not here

that Drake Vernon told Nell Lorton of his love, and drew the confession

of hers from her lips? To this place they always come alone, for it is

sacred.

As, on this afternoon, they approach the spot, Drake utters an

exclamation of surprise.

"Why, Nell, there's another boat there!" he says.

"Not really, Drake?" she says, with a little disappointment in her

voice.

For the moments they spend in this spot are sweet and precious to her.

"Yes, there is," he says; "and, by George; there are two persons sitting

on the bowlder--our bowlder!"




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