"They say that Mrs. Fairfax was hanging round in a boat, waiting for
him. The story of the escape is all out now."

They moved away with a slight perfunctory bow to Mrs. Bunker, only the
younger officer noting that the pert, pretty little Western woman wasn't
as sharp and snappy to his superior as she had at first promised to be.

She turned back to the cottage astounded, angry, and vaguely alarmed.
Who was this Mrs. Fairfax who had usurped her fame and solitary
devotion? There was no woman in the boat that took him off; it was
equally well known that he went in the ship alone. If they had heard
that some woman was with him here--why should they have supposed it was
Mrs. Fairfax? Zephas might know something--but he was away. The thought
haunted her that day and the next. On the third came a more startling
incident.

She had been wandering along the edge of her domain in a state of
restlessness which had driven her from the monotony of the house when
she heard the barking of the big Newfoundland dog which Zephas had
lately bought for protection and company. She looked up and saw the boat
and its solitary rower at the landing. She ran quickly to the house to
bring the packet. As she entered she started back in amazement. For the
sitting-room was already in possession of a woman who was seated calmly
by the table.

The stranger turned on Mrs. Bunker that frankly insolent glance and
deliberate examination which only one woman can give another. In that
glance Mrs. Bunker felt herself in the presence of a superior, even if
her own eyes had not told her that in beauty, attire, and bearing the