"I supposed it was by your orders, Edith," Marian said smiling. "Isn't he still acting under your instructions? But why 'rust'?"

"Certainly not by any orders of mine," she replied with emphasis. "What he needs as an adviser is a machinist to keep that wonderful business head of his in repair. Wouldn't you think it would rust if he got it wet?"

Edith's new att.i.tude was more intelligible to Marian than to the men, but discretion suggested a change of subject.

"Harry is taking us home with him on Monday," she announced, suddenly turning to Hamlen and watching him narrowly as she spoke.

"On Monday?" Hamlen repeated after her. The color rushed into his usually pale face, and a tremor in his voice showed how much the news affected him. "You are going Monday?"

"The Thatcher family intact," Marian answered him; "I don't know about the others."

"Of course Ricky and I go when you do," Edith added. "I'm quite ready.

The place is beginning to pall on me."

There was an injured look in Hamlen's face as he turned to her quickly.

"Don't say that of my beautiful island!" he begged.

"Oh, the place is all right," Edith a.s.sured him; "it is simply some of the foreign element I don't like."

"Must you really go?" Hamlen asked Thatcher appealingly.

"It is my master's voice, and we slaves of the market dare not disregard the call."

Hamlen forced a smile. "I shall miss you," he said simply.

"Come with us," Marian urged in a low voice. "That would make our visit here complete."

The man made no response, yet she could see no signs of weakening. The color left his face and it was now more ashen than before. The lips were tightly compressed as if he feared to trust them, and his hands clenched the walking-stick he held in front of him with a grip of iron. He mastered himself at last, and the pathetic smile which wrung Marian's heart whenever she saw it returned to his face. It was too clearly the reflection of a wound which pride alone concealed from sight.

"You are too generous," he said at length, feeling the necessity of making some response,--"far too generous; but it is like you, Marian.

Huntington is generous too, but you both are mistaken in your kindness.

There are some exotic growths which can't be transplanted; I am one of those."

He paused for a moment; then he continued: "I must ask one more favor before you go--come to me to-morrow afternoon and let us have a final celebration in honor of our reunion. Come to my villa, all of you, and in the midst of the family I have created--my flowers, my trees--let me dedicate my home anew to the dear friends who have brought life back to me, even though they too will soon join the memories amongst which I must continue to live. Give me this last experience to remain with me after you are gone."

"Of course we will, Philip,--we would love to come," Marian replied, affected by his words and the depth of emotion which his voice expressed. "It will be the one remembrance we would most rejoice to take back with us if we can't take you. For these days, Philip," she added in a voice so low that he alone could hear,--"these days have not been vital ones for you alone, dear friend. Our meeting has brought back much to me which I shall always cherish, and beyond all I wish I might be the means of giving you back that happiness you lost through me."

"No, no! You mustn't say that, Marian!"

"Oh, but I feel the burden of it, Philip! You give me no chance to make rest.i.tution. If you would only come--"

A tremor ran through his frame but he quickly controlled himself. "No, Marian," he said firmly; "you must come to me!"

While the little group were conversing together the bathers had left the pool, and now one by one appeared from the bath-houses, radiant from their invigorating exercise, and looking for new worlds to conquer.

Cosden was first, and he seated himself on the bench beside Edith.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked in a low tone, but with a smile which expressed confidence in the answer.

"I never talk shop outside of business hours," was the chilling response, as she drew herself slightly away from him and looked straight ahead.

Merry was not far behind, and her appearance prevented Edith's hauteur from becoming too apparent.

"Mr. Huntington and I are going to have another race to-morrow morning,"

she announced. "I'm sure he let me beat him this time just to humiliate me the more when he shows what he can really do."

"I'd back you against the field if I could find any takers," Cosden insisted. "That shows what I think of his chances."

"It's great fun, anyway. Isn't this a fine old world, Momsie?" she cried impulsively, throwing her arms around her mother's neck and kissing her.

"'Here comes the bride,'" chanted Cosden as Huntington finally walked toward them with his dignified stride. "If I took as much time to prink as you do I believe I could fuss myself up to look like something."

"You'd need a file!" Edith e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed spitefully.

"I beg your pardon?" Cosden interrogated, but no explanation was vouchsafed.

"This looks to me like a council of war," Huntington remarked.

"Call it rather a demobilization," Thatcher corrected. "I have made myself everlastingly unpopular by deciding to return to New York on Monday. Marian insists on leaving when I do, and the Stevenses are equally considerate of my pleasure. So I've spoiled everything."

"I have only been waiting for some one stronger than I to determine my own departure, so I include myself among the refugees. And Hamlen will go with me, won't you, my friend?"

Hamlen held up his hand deprecatingly. "I must complete my sentence of exile," he said with finality.

"Have you heard anything from New York?" Cosden inquired. "I left orders not to cable."

"The market is bad, and liable to become worse."

"Then my vacation is over, too. How about the trolley project?"

"Another postponement. I'll give you the details later."

"Mr. Hamlen has invited us to have tea with him to-morrow afternoon as a farewell celebration, and I have accepted for all."

"Not a farewell, Mrs. Thatcher," Huntington corrected, looking across at Hamlen. "There are some souls to whom we never say farewell. If he won't come with us now it simply means a brief postponement. This friend of mine cannot come into my life as he has done these weeks and then go out of it again. He and I have already lost too many years of the companionship which should have been ours; now together we must make up for lost time."

Hamlen looked at him gratefully but did not answer. In single file the little party walked along the narrow edge of the pool, down the steps and back to the hotel. Cosden manoeuvered so that he had a word with Edith before they separated.

"I sha'n't let you be cross with me," he said.

"I'm not cross; 'disgusted' is the word if you really want to know."

"But suppose my speaking was more sudden than my decision?"

"I would rather not discuss it, if you please."

"I've seen a great deal more of you than I have of Merry--"

"But when you make up your mind, Mr. Cosden--" Edith recalled his own words.