“Except ourselves.”

“Except ourselves, Ulysses; and we’ll forgive each other.”  She took a step out from the shadow of the oaks’ foliage into the white sunlight and turned, looking back at him.

And he followed, as did his heroic namesake in the golden noon of the age of fable.

As they came in sight of the sea he halted.

“That’s curious!” he exclaimed; “there is the Ariani again!”

“The yacht you came on?”

“Yes.  I wonder if there’s been an accident.  She cleared for Miami last night.”

They stood looking at the white steamer for a moment.

“I hope everything’s all right with the Ariani” he murmured; then turned to the girl beside him.

“By the way I have a message for you from a man on board; I forgot to deliver it.”

“A message for me?”

“From a very ornamental young man who desired to be particularly remembered to Shiela Cardross until he could pay his respects in person.  Can you guess?”

For a moment she looked at him with a tremor of curiosity and amusement edging her lips.

“Louis Malcourt,” he said, smiling; and turned again to the sea.

A sudden, still, inward fright seized her; the curious soundless crash of her own senses followed—­as though all within had given way.

She had known many, many such moments; one was upon her now, the clutching terror of it seeming to stiffen the very soul within her.

“I hope all’s well with the Ariani” he repeated under his breath, staring at the sea.

Miss Cardross said nothing.

CHAPTER VII

A CHANGE OF BASE

February, the gayest winter month on the East Coast, found the winter resorts already overcrowded.  Relays and consignments of fashion arrived and departed on every train; the permanent winter colony, composed of those who owned or rented villas and those who remained for the three months at either of the great hotels, had started the season vigorously.  Dances, dinners, lawn fetes, entertainments for local churches and charities left little time for anything except the routine of the bathing-hour, the noon gathering at “The Breakers,” and tea during the concert.

Every day beach, pier, and swimming-pool were thronged; every day the white motor-cars rushed southward to Miami, and the swift power-boats sped northward to the Inlet; and the house-boat rendezvous rang with the gay laughter of pretty women, and the restaurant of the Beach Club flashed with their jewels.