It was eleven o\'clock next morning before Ella ventured to rap softly on the door. They had just finished breakfast. The bride was clearing up the table, humming a song of her childhood.

Jim caught her in his arms.

“Once more before she comes!”

“Don\'t kill me!” she laughed.

Jim lounged in the window and smoked his cigarette while Ella and Mary chattered in the kitchenette.

In half an hour the scrub-woman had made her last trip with the extra dishes, and the little home was spick and span.

Mary sprang on the couch and snuggled into Jim\'s arms.

“I\'ve changed our plans——” he began thoughtfully.

“We won\'t give up our honeymoon trip?” she cried in alarm. “That\'s one dream we MUST live, Jim, dear. I\'ve set my heart on it.”

“Sure we will—sure,” he answered quickly. “But not in that car.”

“Why?”

Jim grinned.

“Because I like you better—you get me, Kiddo?”

She pressed close and whispered:

“I think so.”

“You see, that fool car might throw a tire or two. Believe me, it\'ll be a job to have her on my hands for a thousand miles. Of course, if I didn\'t know you, little girl, it would be all sorts of fun. But, honest to God, this game beats the world.”

He bent low and kissed her again.

“Where\'ll we go, then?” she murmured.

“That\'s what I\'m tryin\' to dope out. I like the sea. It lulls me just like whisky puts a drunkard to sleep. I wish we could get where it\'s bright and warm and the sun shines all the time. We could stay two weeks and then jump on the train and be in Asheville the day before Christmas.”

Mary sprang up excitedly.

“I have it! We\'ll go to Florida—away down to the Keys. It\'s the dream of my life to go there!”

“The Keys what\'s that?” he asked, puzzled.

“The Keys are little sand islands and reefs that jut out into the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The railroad takes us right there.”

“It\'s warm and sunny there now?”

“Just like summer up here. We can go in bathing in the surf every day.”

Jim sprang to his feet.

“Got a bathing suit?”

“Yes—a beauty. I\'ve never worn it here.”

“Why?”

“It seemed so bold.”

“All right. Maybe we can get a Key all by ourselves for two weeks.”

“Wouldn\'t it be glorious!”

“We\'ll try it, anyhow. I\'ll buy the doggoned thing if they don\'t ask too much. Pack your traps. I\'ll go down to the shop and get my things. We\'ll be ready to start in an hour.”

By four o\'clock they were seated in the drawing-room of a Pullman car on the Florida Limited, gazing entranced at the drab landscape of the Jersey meadows.

Three days later, Jim had landed his boat on a tiny sand reef a half-mile off the coast of Florida with a tent and complete outfit for camping. Like two romping children, they tied the boat to a stake and rushed over the sand-dunes to the beach. They explored their domain from end to end within an hour. Not a tree obscured the endless panorama of sea and bay and waving grass on the great solemn marshes. Piles of soft, warm seaweed lay in long, dark rows along the high-tide mark.

Mary selected a sand-dune almost exactly the height and shape of the one on which they sat at Long Beach the day he told her of his love.

“Here\'s the spot for our home!” she cried. “Don\'t you recognize it?”

“Can\'t say I\'ve ever been here before. Oh, I got you—I got you! Long Beach—sure! What do you think of that?”

He hurried to the boat and brought the tent. Mary carried the spade, the pole and pegs.

In half an hour the little white home was shining on the level sand at the foot of their favorite dune. The door was set toward the open sea, and the stove securely placed beneath an awning which shaded it from the sun\'s rays.

“Now, Kiddo, a plunge in that shining water the first thing. I\'ll give you the tent. I\'ll chuck my things out here.”

In a fever of joyous haste she threw off her clothes and donned the dainty, one-piece bathing suit. She flew over the sand and plunged into the water before Jim had finished changing to his suit.

She was swimming and diving like a duck in the lazy, beautiful waters of the Gulf when he reached the beach.

“Come on! Come on!” she shouted.

He waved his hand and finished his cigarette.

“It\'s glorious! It\'s mid-summer!” she called.

With a quick plunge he dived into the water, disappeared and stayed until she began to scan the surface uneasily. With a splash he rose by her side, lifting her screaming in his arms. Her bathing-cap was brushed off, and he seized her long hair in his mouth, turned and with swift, strong beat carried her unresisting body to the beach.

He drew her erect and looked into her smiling face.

“That\'s the way I\'d save you if you had called for help. How\'d you like it?”

“It was sweet to give up and feel myself in your power, dear!”

His drooping eyes were devouring her exquisite figure outlined so perfectly in the clinging suit.

“I was afraid to wear this in New York,” she said demurely.

“I can\'t blame you. If you\'d ever have gone on the beach at Coney Island in that, there\'d have been a riot.”

He lifted her in his arms and kissed her.

“And you\'re all mine, Kiddo! It\'s too good to be true! I\'m afraid to wake up mornings now for fear I\'ll find I\'ve just been dreaming.”

They plunged again in the water, and side by side swam far out from the shore, circled gracefully and returned.

Hours they spent snuggling in the warm sand. Not a sound of the world beyond the bay broke the stillness. The music of the water\'s soft sighing came on their ears in sweet, endless cadence. The wind was gentle and brushed their cheeks with the softest caress. Far out at sea, white-winged sails were spread—so far away they seemed to stand in one spot forever. The deep cry of an ocean steamer broke the stillness at last.

“We must dress for dinner, Jim!” she sighed.

“Why, Kiddo?”

“We must eat, you know.”

“But why dress? I like that style on you. It\'s too much trouble to dress.”

“All right!” she cried gayly. “We\'ll have a little informal dinner this evening. I love to feel the sand under my feet.”

He gathered the wood from the dry drifts above the waterline and kindled a fire. The salt-soaked sticks burned fiercely, and the dinner was cooked in a jiffy—a fresh chicken he had bought, sweet potatoes, and delicious buttered toast.

They sat in their bathing suits on camp-stools beside the folding table and ate by moonlight.

The dinner finished, Mary cleared the wooden dishes while Jim brought heaps of the dry, spongy sea grass and made a bed in the tent. He piled it two feet high, packed it down to a foot, and then spread the sheets and blankets.

“All ready for a stroll down the avenue, Kiddo?” he called from the door.

“Fifth Avenue or Broadway?” she laughed.

“Oh, the Great White Way—you couldn\'t miss it! Just look at the shimmer of the moon on the sands! Ain\'t it great?”

Hand in hand, they strolled on the beach and bathed in the silent flood of the moonlit night—no prying eyes near save the stars of the friendly southern skies.

“The moon seems different down here, Jim!” she whispered.

“It is different,” he answered with boyish enthusiasm. “It\'s all so still and white!”

“Could we stay here forever?”

He shook his head emphatically.

“Not on your life. This little boy has to work, you know. Old man John D. Rockefeller might, but it\'s early for a young financier to retire.”

“A whole week, then?”

“Sure! For a week we\'ll forget New York.”

They sat down on the sand-dune behind the tent and watched the waters flash in the silvery light, the world and its fevered life forgotten.

“You\'re the only thing real tonight, Jim!” she sighed.

“And you\'re the world for me, Kiddo!”

She waked at dawn, with a queer feeling of awe at the weird, gray light which filtered through the cotton walls. A sense of oneness with Nature and the beat of Her eternal heart filled her soul. The soft wash of the water on the sands seemed to be keeping time to the throb of her own pulse.

She peered curiously into the face of her sleeping lover. She had never seen him asleep before. She started at the transformation wrought by the closing of his heavy eyelids and the complete relaxation of his features. The strange, steel-blue coloring of his eyes had always given his face an air of mystery and charm. The complete closing of the heavy lids and the slight droop of the lower jaw had worked a frightful change. The romance and charm had gone, and instead she saw only the coarse, brutal strength.

She frowned like a spoiled child, put her dainty hand under his chin and pressed his mouth together.

“Wake up, sir!” she whispered. “I don\'t like your expression!”

He refused to stir, and she drew the tips of her fingers across his ears and eyelids.

He rubbed his eyes and muttered:

“What t\'ell?”

“Let\'s take a bath in the sea before sunrise—come on!”

The sleeper groaned heavily, turned over, and in a moment was again dead to the world.

Mary\'s eyes were wide now with excitement. The hours were too marvelous to be lost in sleep. She could sleep when they must return to the tiresome world with its endless crowds of people.

She rose softly, ran barefoot to the beach, threw her night-dress on the sand and plunged, her white, young body trembling with joy, into the water.

It was marvelous—this wonderful hush of the dawn over the infinite sea. The air and water melted into a pearl gray. Far out toward th............