had a sailboat since I was thirteen, and most of our summers have been
spent at Buzzard's Bay."

"But you're a young lady now," said Aunt Rebecca.

Mabel looked from one to the other as though she were speculating as
to what these new protectors were like. "Am I?" she asked with a
smile. "I must remember that, I suppose; but it will be hard to change
all at once." Thereupon she stepped lightly to the edge of the cliff
that she might enjoy more completely the view while she left them to
digest this qualified surrender.

"'No pent-up Utica contracts her powers,'" murmured Miss Rebecca, who
was fond of classic verse.

"It is evident that we shall have our hands full," answered Miss
Carry. "But she's fresh as a rose, and wide-awake. I'm sure the dear
girl will try to please us."

Mabel did try, and succeeded; but it was a success obtained at the
cost of setting at naught all her aunts' preconceived ideas regarding
the correct deportment of marriageable girls. The knockabout was
forthcoming shortly after she had demonstrated her amphibious
qualities by diving from the rocks and performing water feats which
dazed her anxious guardians. Indeed, she fairly lived in her
bathing-dress until the novelty wore off. Thomas, the coachman, who
had been a fisherman in his day, announced with a grin, after
accompanying her on the trial trip of the hired cat-boat, that he
could teach her nothing about sailing. Henceforth her small craft was
almost daily a distant speck on the horizon, and braved the seas so