“Graybrooke, I want to say a word to you about Launcelot Linzie.”

Natalie’s first impulse was to fly to the door.  Hearing Launce’s name on Richard’s lips, she checked herself.  Something in Richard’s tone roused in her the curiosity which suspends fear.  She waited, with her hand in Launce’s hand.

“If you remember,” the brassy voice went on, “I doubted the wisdom of taking him with us on this cruise.  You didn’t agree with me, and, at your express request, I gave way.  I did wrong.  Launcelot Linzie is a very presuming young man.”

Sir Joseph’s answer was accompanied by Sir Joseph’s mellow laugh.

“My dear Richard!  Surely you are a little hard on Launce?”

“You are not an observant man, Graybrooke.  I am.  I see signs of his presuming with all of us, and especially with Natalie.  I don’t like the manner in which he speaks to her and looks at her.  He is unduly familiar; he is insolently confidential.  There must be a stop put to it.  In my position, my feelings ought to be regarded.  I request you to check the intimacy when we get on shore.”

Sir Joseph’s next words were spoken more seriously.  He expressed his surprise.

“My dear Richard, they are cousins, they have been playmates from childhood.  How can you think of attaching the slightest importance to anything that is said or done by poor Launce?”

There was a good-humored contempt in Sir Joseph’s reference to “poor Launce” which jarred on his daughter.  He might almost have been alluding to some harmless domestic animal.  Natalie’s color deepened.  Her hand pressed Launce’s hand gently.

Turlington still persisted.

“I must once more request—­seriously request—­that you will check this growing intimacy.  I don’t object to your asking him to the house when you ask other friends.  I only wish you (and expect you) to stop his ‘dropping in,’ as it is called, any hour of the day or evening when he may have nothing to do.  Is that understood between us?”

“If you make a point of it, Richard, of course it’s understood between us.”

Launce looked at Natalie, as weak Sir Joseph consented in those words.

“What did I tell you?” he whispered.

Natalie hung her head in silence.  There was a pause in the conversation on deck.  The two gentlemen walked away slowly toward the forward part of the vessel.

Launce pursued his advantage.

“Your father leaves us no alternative,” he said.  “The door will be closed against me as soon as we get on shore.  If I lose you, Natalie, I don’t care what becomes of me.  My profession may go to the devil.  I have nothing left worth living for.”

“Hush! hush! don’t talk in that way!”

Launce tried the soothing influence of persuasion once more.

“Hundreds and hundreds of people in our situation have married privately—­and have been forgiven afterward,” he went on.  “I won’t ask you to do anything in a hurry.  I will be guided entirely by your wishes.  All I want to quiet my mind is to know that you are mine.  Do, do, do make me feel sure that Richard Turlington can’t take you away from me.”