"By Jove!" said Philip, under his breath, gazing at her in silent admiration.
There was nothing sham about his Margaret, he thought; she was genuine to the very roots of her hair. What had he done to deserve such a prize? Had any other man in the world ever been so blessed?
Margaret smiled coyly; she knew what was passing through her lover's mind, and was not sorry for the opportunity to show herself. So these small bits of sentimental comedy were played, while the tragedy of the storm was being enacted without.
"We'll make a night of it," said Philip.
All this while he had forgotten Mr. Hart's loss, but it flashed upon him suddenly in the sad look that dwelt in the old man's eyes.
"Margaret," said Philip, "go and sit in that corner, and shut your eyes. Mr. Hart and I have a little bit of private business to transact; it won't take five minutes."
Obedient Margaret moved a few paces away, and closed her eyes, and raised the picture of her lover, handsome, and brave, and noble, to feast upon mentally. Philip stole to her, kissed her fresh lips, and whispered a word in her ear. Then he looked about him for pen and ink, and brought them to the table.
"Now," he said, in a low tone to Mr. Hart, "please to sign these papers."
He took from his pocket the duplicate agreements, by which he sold, and Mr. Hart bought, a fourth of his share in the claim on the Margaret Reef. Mr. Hart gently shook his head. But Philip would not be denied. He pressed and argued, and argued and pressed, and even threatened, until all that Mr. Hart could do was to sit still and listen. But still he would not sign.
"Margaret," said Philip, "come and help me."