enough to count," she answered.

"Do you swim?" was his next question.

Receiving no answer, he continued: "It is getting rather late in the year for sea bathing. The water is too cold for comfort."

"I like to swim in cold water," commented Madge stiffly. Then, taking pity on the discomfited young man, she smiled faintly and said, "I should not blame you for your friend's rude remarks, but I am still very angry with her. Her conduct was insufferable."

"She didn't mean what she said," defended Alfred Thornton. "I can't understand why Flora spoke as she did. She is a splendid girl. I've known her for a long time. She is the daughter of an officer whose father is a retired admiral in the Navy and a favorite socially at Old Point."

"That is very nice for her," returned Madge without enthusiasm. In the face of the discourtesy which Miss Harris had just exhibited she thought Mr. Thornton's eloquent defence in rather bad taste. She was about to retort that her father, too, had been an officer in the Navy; then, remembering, her face flushed and she compressed her red lips. Not yet. Not until she had found the man she sought and cleared her father's name. Suddenly the thought came: "Suppose I were to hear news of him while at Old Point? Suppose he were known to some of the officers whose ships are stationed here? Perhaps it was Fate that sent us to visit Mrs. Curtis."

"Have you decided to be angry, after all?" Alfred Thornton's voice recalled Madge to her surroundings.

"I am not angry," replied Madge. "To tell you the truth, I was not thinking of my own grievances."

"Sorry to interrupt conversation, Thornton," broke in Tom Curtis, "but there is a whole line of midshipmen waiting to be introduced to my friends."

"I hope you will give me a dance, Miss Morton," said Alfred Thornton.

Madge assented, although she felt more inclined to refuse. She was not in the least certain that she liked this dark, thin-faced young man. When he talked he had a peculiar trick of turning his eyes away from the person with whom he was talking that did not please her.

"Come on over in that corner, girls," invited Tom. "There we shall be out of the way of the dancers and you can hold court. Just wait until you see that line of midshipmen!"

Keeping out of the way of the dancers, the party moved toward the corner designated by Tom. There he left them, returning shortly with several young men in the midshipmen's uniform, who seemed not only willing, but eager, to have the pleasure of dancing with the four girls. Miss Jenny Ann, who looked very handsome in a pretty gown of black net over white silk, came in for a full share of attention, and was not a little worried as to whether as chaperon she ought to sit quietly and watch her charges or dance. She confided this to Madge, who merely laughed, told her that she looked "too sweet for anything" and to "go ahead and have a good time." Whereupon Miss Jenny Ann sank her last scruples and proceeded to enjoy herself as much as did the four girls, who did not miss a dance. They were showered with attentions from not only the midshipmen, but the old officers as well asked the privilege of a dance.

Pretty Lillian Seldon was in her element. This was her first real ball and she was delighted with the opportunity it afforded to play "grown up." She wore her golden hair piled high on her shapely head, and as her white silk evening gown was the longest frock she owned she felt at least twenty, which to her seemed very old indeed.

Phil danced for the pure love of dancing. She was more level-headed than Lillian and was less likely to be carried away by pleasure. Still, she felt as though she would like to go on dancing forever with Lieutenant James Lawton, who she decided was the nicest young man she had ever met.

Undoubtedly it was the excitement of the dance that appealed most strongly to Madge. The music, the flowers, the beautiful gowns worn by the women, the subdued murmur of laughing voices, stirred her imaginative temperament as the sunshine awakens flowers. The earlier thought of her father that had threatened to cloud her pleasure disappeared and she gave herself up to the enticement of the gay scene and the invitation of the music.

It was after midnight before the ball ended. Tom's car was at the hotel entrance to take the tired but enthusiastic girls and their chaperon down to the landing where the launch lay ready to take them to the "Merry Maid."

"I've had the most glorious time," exulted Lillian.

"And I," was the chorus.

"It was too delightful for words," declared Madge, with shining eyes. Then the light suddenly left them and she became strangely silent. "I forgot you, Father," she said under her breath. "I was so busy having a good time I didn't ask a single officer if he knew that dreadful man. But another time I'll not forget. I'll find out where he is before we leave here if there is any possible way to do it."

CHAPTER IV

THE CHALLENGE

"I declare, Miss Jenny Ann," declared Madge fervently, "I believe I was born to live on a houseboat, I feel so perfectly at home. Do you think I care so much for the sea because my father was a sailor?"

"I suppose you do, my dear," returned the chaperon, who sat listening to Madge's animated chatter with an indulgent smile.

Several days had passed since the ball, and the girls had settled down to a thorough enjoyment of their floating home. Madge, who was looking particularly pretty in her sailor suit of blue serge, had been energetically sweeping the decks. Now she paused for a moment to lean on her broom and survey Miss Jenny Ann reflectively.

The "Merry Maid" now lay at anchor along a stretch of sandy beach, in a cove formed by a point of land that jutted out into the bay. It was the quietest spot Tom Curtis could find in the vicinity. But the landing was so near the mouth of the great Chesapeake Bay that, should a storm blow in from the Atlantic Ocean, the houseboat would probably be lashed by the waves. There was no shade along the beach, so Mrs. Curtis had transformed the houseboat into a charming Japanese pagoda. Mammoth Japanese umbrellas were swung above the decks. The latter were covered with pretty straw mats. There was a dainty green tea table securely fastened near the stern, with half a dozen green chairs near it. The window boxes around the upper deck of the boat had been refilled with bright scarlet geraniums and nasturtiums, as they would bloom until late in the autumn. Fresh draperies hung at the little cabin windows. Wrought-iron lamps, holding beautiful yellow-tinted glass globes, were attached to the outside cabin walls, so the entire deck of the houseboat could be lighted at night. Indeed, "The Merry Maid" presented a far more elaborate appearance than she had worn during the first of the houseboat vacations.

It was small wonder that the four girls sighed from pure content. Mrs. Curtis had not spent a great deal of money in re-decorating the little boat, she did not wish her guests to feel under any obligation to her, but she had made their holiday craft as attractive as possible, and had stored their small larder with all the good things she could find to eat.

"Miss Jenny Ann!" exclaimed Madge impulsively for the second time in five minutes, "do you think it is wrong to dislike people very, very much?"

The little captain's expression had entirely changed. She was frowning as though recalling something unpleasant.

"I suppose it is," answered Miss Jones gravely. She knew that Madge's likes and dislikes were not unimportant—they were so intense that they were likely to change not only the course of the girl's whole life but to influence the circumstances of the people about her.

"I am sorry," answered Madge, "because I have taken a dreadful dislike to that Flora Harris whom we met at the ball the other night. I wish that Tom had not asked us to invite her to the houseboat this afternoon. I did not like to refuse him,