“Miss Grayling!” he exclaimed, seizing both her hands.

“Lawford!  I am so glad to see you,” she rejoined frankly.  And then she had to pull her hands away quickly and raise an admonitory finger.  “Walk beside me—­and be good,” she commanded.  “Do you realize that two worlds are watching us—­the world of The Beaches and the movie world as well?”

“Hang ’em!” announced Lawford with emphasis, his eyes shining.  “Think!  I’ve never even thanked you for what you did for me that day.  I thought Betty Gallup hauled me out of the sea till Jonas Crabbe at the lighthouse put me wise.”

“Never mind that,” she said.  “Tell me, how do you like your work?  And why are you at home again?”

“I’m down here for the week-end—–­to get some more of my duds, to tell the truth.  I’m going to be a fixture at the Egypt factory—­much to dad’s surprise, I fancy.”

“Do you like it?” she asked him, watching his face covertly.

“I hate it!  But I can stick, just the same.  I have a scheme for improving the taffy cutting machines, too.  I think I’ve a streak in me for mechanics.  I have always taken to engines and motors and other machinery.”

“An inventor!”

“Yes.  Why not?” he asked soberly, “Oh!  I’m not going to be one of those inventors who let sharp business men cheat them out of their eye-teeth.  If I improve that candy cutter it will cost I. Tapp real money, believe me!”

Louise’s eyes danced at him in admiration and she dimpled.  “I think you are splendid, Lawford!” she murmured.

It was a mean advantage to take of a young man.  They were on the open beach and every eye from the lighthouse to Tapp Point might be watching them.  Lawford groaned deeply—­and looked it.

“Don’t,” she said.  “I know it’s because of me you have been driven to work.”

“You know that, Miss Grayling?  Louise!”

“Yes.  I had a little talk with your father.  He’s such a funny man!”

“If you can find anything humorous about I. Tapp in his present mood you are a wonder!” he exclaimed.  “Oh, Louise!” He could not keep his hungry gaze off her face.

“You’re a nice boy, Lawford,” she told him, nodding.  “I liked you a lot from the very first.  Now I admire you.”

“Oh, Louise!”

“Don’t look like that at me,” she commanded.  “They’ll see you.  And—­and I feel as though I were about to be eaten.”

“You will be,” he said significantly.  “I am coming to the store to-night.  Or shall I go to see your aunt first?”

“You’d better keep away from Aunt Euphemia, Lawford,” she replied, laughing gayly.  “Wait till my daddy-prof comes home.  See him.”

“And you really love me?  Do you?  Please . . . dear!”

She nodded, pursing her lips.

“But eighteen dollars a week!” groaned Lawford.  “I think the super would have made it an even twenty if it hadn’t been for dad.”