“Did you?  I shouldn’t have thought you had time for that, with all the picnics and sailing parties.”

“I did, though.  I met him at Sam’s.  Mrs. Keith had a cold or a cough or something.  He and I got to talking and he asked me to come and see him.  I went, you bet!  Went out with him on some of his drives while he made his calls, you know.  He told me a lot of things.  He’s a brick.”

“It’s queer,” he went on, after a moment, “but I felt really at home down there in that little place.  Seemed as if I had been there before and—­and—­by George, almost as if I belonged there.  It was my first experience on and around salt water, but that seemed natural, too.  And the people—­I mean the people that belong there, not the summer crowd—­I liked them immensely.  Those two fine old cards that kept the store—­Eh, I beg pardon; they are relatives of yours, aren’t they?  I forgot.”

“They are my uncles,” said Mary, simply.  “I have lived with them almost all my life.  They are the best men in the world.”

“They seemed like it.  I’d like to know them better.  Hello! here’s that confounded church.  I’ve enjoyed this walk ever so much.  Guess I’ve done all the talking, though.  Hope I haven’t bored you to death gassing about my affairs.”

“No, you haven’t.  I enjoyed it.”

“Did you really?  Yes, I guess you did or you wouldn’t say so.  You don’t act like a girl that pretends.  By George!  It’s a relief to have someone to talk to, someone that understands and appreciates what a fellow is thinking about.  Most girls want to talk football and dancing and all that.  I like football immensely and dancing too, but there is something else in life.  Even Sam—­he’s as good as they make but he doesn’t care to listen to anything serious—­that is, not long.”

Mary considered.  “I enjoyed listening,” she said, “and I was glad to hear you liked South Harniss and my uncles.”

On the way home, after the service, it was Sam Keith who escorted Mary, while Mrs. Wyeth walked with Mr. Smith.  Sam’s conversation was not burdened with seriousness.  Hockey, dances, and good times were the subjects he dealt with.  Was his companion fond of dancing?  Would she accompany him to one of the club dances some time?  They were great fun.  Mrs. Wyeth could chaperon them, of course.

Mary said she was afraid she would be too busy to accept.  As a matter of fact, knowing what she did of his mother’s feelings, she would have accepted no invitations from Sam Keith even if nothing else prevented her doing so.

“My studies take a good deal of my time,” she said.

Sam laughed.  “You’ll get over that,” he declared.  “I studied like blue blazes my freshman year, but after that—­I should worry.  Say, I’m mighty glad I came over here today.  I’m coming again.  I’ll be a regular boarder.”

The young men said good-by at the Wyeth door.  Mrs. Wyeth did not ask them in, although the persistent Samuel threw out some pointed hints.