"Then you mean to say 'Yes'!" he exclaimed, coming nearer to her, and grasping the railing firmly in his hand, to conceal how it shook.
Again she made no reply, but this time Mr. Lisle undoubtedly took silence for consent.
Mrs. Creery and Dr. Parkes were standing on the very summit of the hill, overlooking everything and everybody, and the former had not failed to notice a couple at some distance below them, leaning over the rails, and contemplating the sea, a tall girl in white, Helen Denis, of course; and who was the man? It looked like Captain Durand. There, Captain Durand had just bent over her, and kissed her hand! Pretty doings, certainly, for a married man.
"There!" she exclaimed, suddenly nudging Dr. Parkes, "did you see that?"
"See what, my dear madam?"
"That man down there with Helen Denis. I believe it's Captain Durand; he has just kissed her hand. Oh! WAIT till I see his wife!"
"Pooh!" returned her companion contemptuously, "the moonlight must have deceived you, it was his own hand; he was stroking his moustache."
"Oh, well, I'm not so sure of that!—but I suppose I must take your word for it, doctor."
Meanwhile, to return to Mr. Lisle, who had kissed Helen's hand. (Mrs. Creery's eyes seldom deceived her.) "Won't you say something to me, Helen?" he pleaded anxiously.
"Yes," turning round and drawing her fingers away, "I will.—I say—don't go to the Nicobars."