“That sounds like a most interesting program,” said the young physician.  His voice held a note of hesitation, and he looked swiftly, inquiringly, at me and back again.  It was so carelessly done that I do not think any one noticed it, but I realized that he was waiting for me to join my voice to the invitation.

“Well, Dr. Pettit,” Dicky came up at this juncture, “out for the day?”

His tone was cordial enough, but I, who knew every inflection of Dicky’s voice, realized that he did not relish the appearance of Dr. Pettit upon the scene.

“Yes, I’m going down to the shore for a dip,” the young physician returned.  And then without the stiff dignity which I had seen in his professional manner, he acknowledged the introductions which I gave him to Grace Draper and the Durkees.

“I trust you will think it interesting enough to make it worth your while to join us,” I said demurely, lifting my eyes to his and catching a swift flash of something which might be either relief or triumph in his steely gray ones.

“Indeed, I shall be very glad to accompany you,” he said, smiling.

Our boat, a large, comfortable one, built on lines of usefulness, rather than beauty, slipped over the dancing blue waters of the bay like an enchanted thing.  A neat striped awning was stretched over the rear of the boat beneath which we lounged at ease.

The boat sped on as lazily as our idle conversation, and finally we came in sight of a gleaming beach of sand, with seaweed so luxuriantly tangled that it looked like small clumps of bushes, with the calm, still water of the bay on one side, and the lazily rolling surf on the other.

“Behold our desert island!” Dicky exclaimed dramatically, springing to his feet.

Jim ran the boat skilfully up on the beach and grounded her.  Harry Underwood stepped forward to assist me ashore, but Dr. Pettit, with unobtrusive quickness, was before him.

As I laid my hand in that of the young physician, Harry Underwood gave a hoarse stage laugh.  “I told you so,” he croaked maliciously; “I knew I had a rival on my hands.”

As Harry Underwood uttered his jibing little speech, Dicky raised his head and looked fixedly at me.  It was an amazed, questioning look, one that had in it something of the bewilderment of a child.  In another instant he had turned away to answer a question of Grace Draper’s.

I felt my heart beating madly.  Was Dicky really taking notice of the attentions which Harry Underwood and Dr. Pettit were bestowing upon me?  I had not time to ponder long, however, for Lillian Underwood seized my arm almost as soon as we stepped on shore and walked me away until we were out of earshot of the others.

“Did you see Dicky’s face,” she demanded breathlessly, “when Harry and that lovely doctor of yours were doing the rival gallant act?  It was perfectly lovely to see his lordship so puzzled.  That doctor friend of yours was certainly sent by Providence just at this time.  Just keep up a judicious little flirtation with him and I’ll wager that before the week’s out Dicky will have forgotten such a girl as Grace Draper exists.”