“Where is Mr. Lavender?  Has he gone into the smoking-room for me?” he asked.

“He is not here,” said Sheila.  “I have come for you by myself.”

For a moment, too, Ingram felt the eyes of the men on him, but directly he said with a fine air of carelessness, “Well, that is very good of you.  Shall we go out for a stroll until your husband comes?”

So he opened the door and followed her outside into the fresh air and the roar of the waves.

“Well, Sheila,” he said, “this is very good of you, really:  where is Mr. Lavender?”

“He generally rides with Mrs. Lorraine in the morning.”

“And what do you do?”

“I sit at the window.”

“Don’t you go boating?”

“No, I have not been in a boat.  They do not care for it.  And yesterday it was a letter to papa I was writing, and I could tell him nothing about the people here or the fishing.”

“But you could not in any case, Sheila.  I suppose you would like to know what they pay for their lines, and how they dye their wool, and so on; but you would find the fishermen here don’t live in that way at all.  They are all civilized, you know.  They buy their clothing in the shops.  They never eat any sort of sea-weed, or dye with it, either.  However, I will tell you all about it by and by.  At present I suppose you are returning to your hotel.”

A quick look of pain and disappointment passed over her face as she turned to him for a moment with something of entreaty in her eyes.

“I came to see you,” she said.  “But perhaps you have an engagement.  I do not wish to take up any of your time:  if you please I will go back alone to—­”

“Now, Sheila,” he said with a smile, and with the old friendly look she knew so well, “you must not talk like that to me.  I won’t have it.  You know I came down to Brighton because you asked me to come; and my time is altogether at your service.”

“And you have no engagement just now?” said Sheila with her face brightening.

“No.”

“And you will take me down to the shore to see the boats and the nets?  Or could we go out and run along the coast for a few miles?  It is a very good wind.”

“Oh, I should be very glad,” said Ingram slowly.  “I should be delighted.  But, you see, wouldn’t your husband think it—­wouldn’t he, you know—­wouldn’t it seem just a little odd to him if you were to go away like that?”

“He is to go riding with Mrs. Lorraine,” said Sheila quite simply.  “He does not want me.”

“Of course you told him you were coming to see—­you were going to call at the Old Ship?”

“Yes.  And I am sure he would not be surprised if I did not return for a long time.”

“Are you quite sure, Sheila?”

“Yes, I am quite sure.”

“Very well.  Now I shall tell you what I am going to do with you.  I shall first go and bribe some mercenary boatman to let us have one of those small sailing boats committed to our own exclusive charge.  I shall constitute you skipper and pilot of the craft, and hold you responsible for my safety.  I shall smoke a pipe to prepare me for whatever may befall.”