Was he considering that curious doctrine which she had propounded, that if a man really loves a woman he will marry her dearest friend? He made no reply to her. The point required a good deal of thought, apparently.

"You hear me, Bertie--dear Bertie?" she said.

She remembered that, upon a previous occasion, when she had made the same suggestion to him, he had put it aside as unworthy of comment-- unworthy of a moment's thought. How could it be possible for him, loving her as he did, to admit the possibility of another's attractiveness in his eyes? The idea had seemed ludicrous to him.

But now he made no such protest. He seemed to consider her suggestion and to think it--well, worthy of consideration; and this should have been very pleasing to her; for did it not mean that she had gained her point?

"You will think over it, Bertie?" she said. Her voice was now scarcely so full of eagerness as it had been before. Was that because she did not want to weary him by her persistence? Even the suggestion to a man that he should love a certain woman should, she knew, be made with tact.

"I have been thinking over it," he said at last; but only after a long pause.

And she actually believed that she was glad.

"I thought about her aboard the yacht."