“Northern seas are the only seas possible for summer,” he replied—­ “With the winter one goes south, as a matter of course, though I’m not sure that it is always advisable.  I have found the Mediterranean tiresome very often.”  He broke off and seemed to lose himself for a moment in a tangle of vexed thought.  Then he resumed quickly:—­ “Well, next week, then.  Rothesay bay, and the yacht ‘Diana.’”

Things being thus settled, we shook hands and parted.  In the interval between his visit and my departure from home I had plenty to do, and I heard no more of the Harlands, except that I received a little note from Miss Catherine expressing her pleasure that I had agreed to accompany them on their cruise.

“You will be very dull, I fear,”—­she wrote, kindly—­“But not so dull as we should be without you.”

This was a gracious phrase which meant as much or as little as most such phrases of a conventionally amiable character.  Dulness, however, is a condition of brain and body of which I am seldom conscious, so that the suggestion of its possibility did not disturb my outlook.  Having resolved to go, I equally resolved to enjoy the trip to the utmost limit of my capacity for enjoyment, which—­ fortunately for myself—­is very great.  Before my departure from home I had to listen, of course, to the usual croaking chorus of acquaintances in the neighbourhood who were not going yachting and who, according to their own assertion, never would on any account go yachting.  There is a tendency in many persons to decry every pleasure which they have no chance of sharing, and this was not lacking among my provincial gossips.

“The weather has been so fine lately that we’re sure to have a break soon,”—­said one—­“I expect you’ll meet gales at sea.”

“I hear,” said another, “that heavy rains are threatening the west coast of Scotland.”

“Such a bore, yachting!” declared a worthy woman who had never been on a yacht in her life—­“The people on board get sick of each other’s company in a week!”

“Well, you ought to pity me very much, then!”—­I said, laughing—­ “According to your ideas, a yachting cruise appears to be the last possible form of physical suffering that can be inflicted on any human being.  But I shall hope to come safely out of it all the same!”

My visitors gave me a wry smile.  It was quite easy to see that they envied what they considered my good fortune in getting a holiday under the most luxurious circumstances without its costing me a penny.  This was the only view they took of it.  It is the only view people generally take of any situation,—­namely, the financial side.