After the swim, Jane had had a long conversation with Mr. Wing, with the result that a place was set for Breck at the table in the saloon. Purple wildflowers, picked on the island and thrust into a low bowl, stood in the center of the table and gave a gala air to the saloon. Ellen had arranged them and said to Mabel that she had not realized how much she missed flowers till she saw these.

Jane and Breck watched for Frederick Gray on deck, both of them feeling shy and self-conscious. Finally, his dory slid up alongside the “Boojum” and the boy, in immaculate white ducks, was soon standing beside his new friends.

“Everybody is down in the saloon. Let’s go down and get the introductions over,” Jane said, leading the way.

Frederick Gray had been looking forward all day to the little supper party. Breck and Jane had delighted him with their warm friendliness in the morning and he was anxious to see if their friends were as charming as they were. It was a rare treat to the boy to mix with his own kind. His father could find little time to spare to his son, so engrossed was he in his inventions, and the younger children, of course, kept his mother very busy. She did all the work, as the isolation of Hurricane Island made the servant question impossible. Since his sister’s departure for Columbia, he had been far lonelier than he cared to admit. In fact, he had not realized how alone he was till he saw this group of natural, kindly people.

“Reading from the left to the right, first row standing are my brother, Jack Pellew, Ellen Birch, and Mr. Wing. Seated, are Frances Bliss, Charlie Preston and Mabel Wing. The gentleman lying down is Tim Reynolds and it is his boat that we want you to take back to Nantucket,” Jane said in oratorical tones, “and all you aforementioned, this is my friend Frederick Gray.”

“Mr. Wing,” Fred said, going forward to shake hands with him, “it is very kind indeed of you to let me be with you tonight. I haven’t seen so many new people at one time for years.”

“It is great for us to have you with us,” Mr. Wing said. “We were beginning to need a little new blood, and your coming and Tim’s coming just started things nicely rolling again.”

Fred could not but feel at home at once with the cordial welcome he had received and he soon found himself seated by Tim talking of the trip he was to make with the “Sabrina.” He told Tim that Virg Bradford had consented to go with him and then he was so eloquent in his praise of the little “Sabrina” that Tim immediately decided his pet would be perfectly safe in such appreciative hands. So the few minutes before supper passed very quickly for Fred and Tim. But they rather dragged for Jane and Breck, for they felt, as Jane put it, “on pins and needles,” till they knew how everybody would take it.

The little Dutch steward came in with delicious pea puree and the little party fell to with a right good will. The lobsters that Breck and Jane brought back from Hurricane Island formed the special dish of the meal and were prepared with an interesting sauce of vinegar and butter that the steward claimed as his own receipt. With the coffee, Jack rose and announced that he had something to say.

“But we don’t want any after-dinner speeches,” objected Mabel, “besides this is a supper and who ever heard of after-supper speeches? Fred is the guest of honor, and he ought to be the one to speak if anybody has to.”

“You have but to hear me and I know you will think I was justified in speaking. I’ll make it short and snappy,” Jack promised Mabel, “for I know you want to talk yourself.”

“Jack, you’re horrid. Shut up and begin,” Mabel commanded.

“Don’t give such confusing orders, daughter,” Mr. Wing said. “Go on, Jack, I am awfully interested and will keep my daughter quiet if I have to gag her.”

“Well, it’s this,” Jack began. “In the first place, I haven’t the faintest idea how a thing like this ought to be done—”

“And we know, of course, that you didn’t expect to be called on at this meeting,” Charlie interrupted him.

“But the fact is,” Jack ignored him, “that I want to announce the engagement of my sister, Jane Pellew, to Allen Breckenridge,” and, quite overcome, Jack sat down.

Everybody was perfectly silent until Frances threw herself into the breach and saved the situation by saying, “Sloan’s liniment—‘Don’t rub, let it penetrate’—Jack, you did it so suddenly you simply took our breaths away. I bid to be first to congratulate both the contracting parties,” and she jumped up and ran around to Jane and hugged her and gave Breck’s hand a cordial squeeze.

Frances’ quickness galvanized the little party into life and all the girls kissed Jane repeatedly and the men wrung Breck’s hand again and again. Then the questions began, “When did it happen?” “Isn’t it awfully sudden?” “Wasn’t Jack funny?” “You didn’t know he was going to do it, did you, Jane dear?”

And Jane was infinitely grateful to Jack for the part he played because he couldn’t have acknowledged Breck in a more sincere and gracious manner.

“Why, Breck,” teased Mr. Wing, “I believe you are quite used to having announcements of this kind made about you. You are behaving like a professional fiancé.”

“I am scared to death, really,” Breck admitted with a grin, “but I have been under fire enough to have learned not to let my knees shake visibly.&rd............