“I wouldn’t care to pass an opinion,” said Frank.  “Some of them are happy that way, no doubt.”

“What does anybody want except to be happy?” she continued, in the same strain of resentment.  “Isn’t that what all are trying for as hard as they can?  I’d like to go out in the street and stop people as they came along and ask them, the one after the other:  ’Would you tell me if you are happy?’ And the one that said ‘yes’ I’d give a hundred dollars to!”

“As like as not it would be some shabby fellow with no overcoat,” said Frank.

“Now you can go away!” she exclaimed suddenly.  “I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Frank.  I think I’m going to cry!  Go, go!” she cried imperiously, as he still stood there.

Frank bowed and obeyed, and his last glimpse, as he closed the door, was of her at the window, looking down disconsolately into the street below.

 III

Spring was well begun when the Minnehaha sailed for Europe to take her place in the mimic fleets that were already assembling.  As like seeks like, so the long, swift white steamer headed like a bird for her faraway companions, and arrived amongst them with colours flying, and her guns roaring out salutes.  By herself she was greedy for every pound of steam and raced her engines as though speed were a matter of life and death; but, once in company, she was content to lag with the slowest, and suit her own pace to the stately progress of the schooners and cutters that moved by the wind alone.  She found friends amongst all nations, and, in that cosmopolitan society of ships, dipped her flag to those of England, France, Holland, Belgium, and Germany.

It was a wonderful life of freedom and gaiety.  A great yacht carries her own letter of introduction, and is accorded everywhere the courtesies of a man-of-war, to whom, in a sense, she is a sister.  Official visits are paid and returned; naval punctilio reigns; invitations are lavished from every side.  There is, besides, a freemasonry amongst those splendid wanderers of the sea, a transcendent Bohemianism, that puts them nearly all upon a common footing.  A holiday spirit is in the air, and kings and princes who at home are hidden within walls of triple brass, here unbend like children out of school, and make friends and gossip about their neighbours and show off their engine-rooms and their ice plant and some new idea in patent boat davits after the manner of very ordinary mortals.  Not of course that kings and princes predominate, but the same spirit prevailed with those who on shore held their heads very high and practised a jealous exclusiveness.  Amongst them all Florence Fenacre was a favourite of favourites.  Young, beautiful, and the mistress of a noble fortune, there was everything to cast a glamour about this charming American who had come out of the unknown to take all hearts by storm.