“I believe that is nicer,” she said thoughtfully, as though considering the matter.

“Truer, too,” I said, “because really the poor young man adored her from the first minute of their meeting!”

“I wonder how long it will take him to make his fortune,” she said, which, under the circumstances, struck me as a cruel thing to say.

“Possibly he has made it already,” I said.  “How do you know he hasn’t?”

“By his looks for one thing,” she said, regarding the machine oil on my cuff out of the corner of her eye.  “Besides, he hasn’t any of the arrogance of a parvenu, and is much too——­”

“Too what?” I asked.

“Well bred,” she replied simply.

“No doubt that’s the ffrench in him,” I said, which I think was rather a neat return.

She didn’t answer, but looked absently across to the harbour mouth.

“I believe there is a steamer coming in,” she said.  “Yes, a steamer.”

“A yacht, I think,” I said, for, sure enough, it was Babcock true to the minute, heading the Tallahassee straight in.  I could have given him a hundred dollars on the spot I was so delighted, for he couldn’t have timed it better, nor at a moment when it could have pleased me more.  She ran in under easy steam, making a splendid appearance with her raking masts and razor bow, under which the water spurted on either side like dividing silver.  Except a beautiful woman, I don’t know that there’s a sweeter sight than a powerful, sea-going steam yacht, with the sun glinting on her bright brass-work, and a uniformed crew jumping to the sound of the boatswain’s whistle.

“The poor young man’s ship’s come home,” I said.

“It must be Lady Gaunt’s Sapphire,” said Verna.

“With the American colours astern?” I said.

“Why, how strange,” she said, “it really is American.  And then I believe it’s larger than the Sapphire!”

“Fifteen hundred and four tons register,” I said.

“How do you know that?” she demanded, with a shade of surprise in her voice.

“Because, my dear, it’s mine!” I said.

“Yours!” she cried out in astonishment.

“If you doubt me,” I said, “I shall tell you what she is going to do next.  She is about to steam in here and lower a boat to take me aboard.”

“She’s heading for Dartmouth,” said Verna incredulously, and the words were hardly out of her pretty mouth when Babcock swung round and pointed the Tallahassee’s nose straight at us.

For a moment Verna was too overcome to speak.

“Fyles,” she said at last, “you told me you worked in an office!”

“So I do,” I said.

“And own a vessel like that!” she exclaimed.  “A yacht the size of a man-of-war!”

“It was you that said I was a poor young man,” I observed.  “I was so pleased at being called young that I let the poor pass.”

“Fancy!” she exclaimed, looking at me with eyes like stars.  And then, recovering herself, she added in another tone:  “Now don’t you think it was very forward to rendezvous at a private castle?”