"A charming spot, truly," said Ethel, "and if I had known all this last July, and there had been a comfortable hotel there, we should have summered on this delightful island instead of on the mountains."
"It would have amused you a week," replied Winn, smiling, "but not longer. There were no golf links or young dudes to flirt with there."
"That is the worst of having friends," she said, "they are bound to gossip about one. I don't mind," she added gayly; "I am a flirt and admit it cheerfully, but what else are men good for?"
"Not much, I admit," answered Winn, sarcastically, "especially if they have money or prospects of it; and if not, they are good to practise on."
"Now, Winn, my dear fellow, don't emulate Jack Nickerson," she responded suavely, "the rôle doesn't become you. You can be an adorable bear, but not a barking puppy."
"I never said he was," answered Ethel. "He can be worse than that; he can be a gossipy old maid, always sneering, and that is more abominable than a puppy any day. But tell me about the people on the island, and which fisher maid you fell in love with."
"Why should you imagine I looked twice at any island maid?" answered Winn.
"Oh, you were bound to," asserted Ethel, laughing. "You wouldn't be the delightful man you are unless you did, so tell me all about her. Did she wear her flaxen hair in a braid and ask from beneath a sunbonnet, 'What are the wild waves saying?' while she stood barefoot beside you on the beach?"
"Oh, yes, and chewed spruce gum at the same time," he responded, also laughing.
"Even when you kissed her?" queried Ethel. "It must have lent a delightfully aromatic flavor."
Winn made no answer to this pointed sally. Instead he stroked his moustache musingly, while his thoughts flew back to Rockhaven and Mona.
"Quit mooning," she said at last, "and come back to Erin. I do not expect you to admit you kissed this fair fisher maid. It wouldn't be gallant. But you can at least describe her. Is she dark or fair?"
"I haven't the least idea," he said, "she was so sweet and charming; her eyes might have been sea-green for all I can tell."
"You evade fairly well," rejoined his tormentor, "but not over well. You still need practice. Now tell me about this old fellow Jack described as a 'barnacled curiosity.'"