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 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!"

Nell looks with keen eyes; then she blushes, and laughs softly.

"Drake, it's d.i.c.k and Lettie Angel!" she says, in a whisper, as if they could hear her.

But she need not be afraid; the two young people who are seated on the spot sacred to Nell and Drake's love, have no ears nor eyes for any but themselves. The girl's face is downcast and blushing, and d.i.c.k's is upturned to hers. He has got hold of her hand; he is pleading as--well, as a certain Drake Vernon once pleaded to a certain Nell Lorton.

Nell and Drake exchange glances full of tenderness, full of sympathy.

"Ourselves over again, dearest!" he says, in a low and loving voice.

"Put her round; we won't disturb them. G.o.d bless them, and send them happiness like unto ours!"

And "Amen!" whispers Nell, her eyes full of tears.