But he obstinately refused to fence.  There was nothing apologetic in this man, no indirectness in his method of attack.  Parry adroitly as she might, he beat down her guard.  As the afternoon wore on there were silences, when Honora, by staring over the waters, tried to collect her thoughts.  But the sea was his ally, and she turned her face appealingly toward the receding land.  Fascination and fear struggled within her as she had listened to his onslaughts, and she was conscious of being moved by what he was, not by what he said.  Vainly she glanced at the two representatives of an ironically satisfied convention, only to realize that they were absorbed in a milder but no less entrancing aspect of the same topic, and would not thank her for an interruption.

“Do you wish me to go away?” he asked at last abruptly, almost rudely.

“Surely,” she said, “your work, your future isn’t in Newport.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“It’s because I have no right to answer it,” she replied.  “Although we have known each other so short a time, I am your friend.  You must realize that.  I am not conventional.  I have lived long enough to understand that the people one likes best are not necessarily those one has known longest.  You interest me—­I admit it frankly—­I speak to you sincerely.  I am even concerned that you shall find happiness, and I feel that you have the power to make something of yourself.  What more can I say?  It seems to me a little strange,” she added, “that under the circumstances I should say so much.  I can give no higher proof of my friendship.”

He did not reply, but gave a sharp order to the crew.  The sheet was shortened, and the Folly obediently headed westward against the swell, flinging rainbows from her bows as she ran.  Mrs. Shorter and Dewing returned at this moment from the cabin, where they had been on a tour of inspection.

“Where are you taking us, Hugh?” said Mrs. Shorter.  “Nowhere in particular,” he replied.

“Please don’t forget that I am having people to dinner to-night.  That’s all I ask.  What have you done to him, Honora, to put him in such a humour?”

Honora laughed.

“I hadn’t noticed anything peculiar about him,” she answered.

“This boat reminds me of Adele,” said Mrs. Shorter.  “She loved it.  I can see how she could get a divorce from Dicky—­but the ‘Folly’!  She told me yesterday that the sight of it made her homesick, and Eustace Rindge won’t leave Paris.”

It suddenly occurred to Honora, as she glanced around the yacht, that Mrs. Rindge rather haunted her.

“So that is your answer,” said Chiltern, when they were alone again.

“What other can I give you?”

“Is it because you are married?” he demanded.

She grew crimson.

“Isn’t that an unnecessary question?”

“No,” he declared.  “It concerns me vitally to understand you.  You were good enough to wish that I should find happiness.  I have found the possibility of it—­in you.”