Should they take the direction of the town, I know by experience they will be apt to meet with an effluvium of decaying fish, and I should _so_ like their stay among us to be begun under pleasant auspices." But almost before Miss Limpenny had concluded these reflections, the strangers had determined on the direction.

They turned neither towards the Town nor up the hill towards the Castle and the harbour's mouth; but down the little road which led to Bower Slip and the Penpoodle Ferryboat.
"Gracious me!" exclaimed Miss Limpenny; "they are going to take a boat." The words were scarcely out of her mouth, when she was seized with a sudden idea--an idea so alluring, yet so bold withal, that the blood flew from her cheeks.

She made a step forward, paused, took another step, and returned to the window.

The strangers had turned down the road and were out of sight.
For a full minute she stood there, tapping her foot.
"I will," she said, with sudden determination.

"I will!" On Miss Limpenny's maiden lip the words were as solemn as though she spoke them at the altar.