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When they came in sight of Harbour Hill, Katherine began to wonder what on earth she would do with him. It wasn’t exactly permissible to snub a man who had practically saved your life, but, on the other hand, the prospect of walking through the principal street of Harbour Hill barefooted and escorted by a scholarly looking gentleman discoursing on seaweeds was not to be calmly contemplated.

The unknown cut the Gordian knot himself. He said that he must really go back or he would be late for dinner, lifted his hat politely, and departed. Katherine waited until he was out of sight, then sat down on the sand and put on her shoes and stockings.

“Who on earth can he be?” she said to herself. “And where have I seen him before? There was certainly something familiar about his appearance. He is very nice, but he must have thought me crazy. I wonder if he belongs to Harbour Hill.”

The mystery was solved when she got home and found a letter from Edith awaiting her.

“I see Ned quite often,” wrote the latter, “and I think he is perfectly splendid. You are a lucky girl, Kate. But oh, do you know that Sidney is actually at Harbour Hill, too, or at least quite near it? I had a letter from him yesterday. He has gone down there to spend his vacation, because it is so quiet, and to finish up some horrid scientific book he is working at. He’s boarding at some little farmhouse up the shore. I’ve written to him today to hunt you up and consider himself introduced to you. I think you’ll like him, for he’s just your style.”

Katherine smiled when Sidney Keith’s card was brought up to her that evening and went down to meet him. Her companion of the morning rose to meet her.

“You!” he said.

“Yes, me,” said Miss Rangely cheerfully and ungrammatically. “You didn’t expect it, did you? I was sure I had seen you before–only it wasn’t you but your photograph.”

When Professor Keith went away it was with a cordial invitation to call again. He did not fail to avail himself of it–in fact, he became a constant visitor at Sycamore Villa. Katherine wrote all about it to Edith and cultivated Professor Keith with a dear conscience.

They got on capitally together. They went on long expeditions up shore after seaweeds, and when seaweeds were exhausted they began to make a collection of the Harbour Hill flora. This involved more long, companionable expeditions. Katherine sometimes wondered when Professor Keith found time to work on his book, but as he made no reference to the subject, neither did she.

Once in a while, when she had time to think of them, she wondered how Ned and Edith were getting on. At first Edith’s letters had been full of Ned, but in her last two or three she had said little about him. Katherine wrote and jokingly asked Edith if she and Ned had quarreled. Edith wrote back and said, “What nonsense.” She and Ned were as good friends as ever, but he was getting acquainted in Riverton now and wasn’t so dependent on her society, etc.

Katherine sighed and went on a fern hunt with Professor Keith. It was getting near the end of her vacation and she had only two weeks more. They were sitting down to rest on the side of the road when she mentioned this fact inconsequently. The professor prodded the harmless dust with his cane. Well, he supposed she would find a return to work pleasant and would doubtless be glad to see her Riverton friends again.

“I’m dying to see Edith,” said Katherine.

“And Ned?” suggested Professor Keith.

“Oh yes. Ned, of course,” assented Katherine without enthusiasm. There didn’t seem to be anything more to say. One cannot talk everlastingly about ferns, so they got up and went home.

Katherine wrote a particularly affectionate letter to Ned that night. Then she went to bed and cried.