They were on excellent terms again; Anne’s momentary haughtiness past, she was mirthful over their prospects. They went out and bought the gaudiest tine Gudvangen could produce, and packed it with what provisions they could find. Anne insisted, moreover, that there should be a packet of tobacco for the rowers. Then she went to fetch her furs, but apparently had changed her mind, for Wareham was not allowed to pay for them. That she would arrange in Bergen, as originally fixed.
“You have not forgiven,” he said, in a low voice.
“Not forgotten,” she corrected. “By this time to-morrow I may have done so.”
He accepted the hint, and was silent.
They went down to the boat, and saw all their things placed, watched by the few interested spectators Gudvangen sent out, and by old Hansen, who took a fatherly interest in their proceedings.
“Can we sail?” asked Miss Dalrymple.
“There is not a breath. But the men are good rowers, and I can take an oar to relieve them. There will be beauty enough to please you.”
“Provided expressly on my account,” said Anne lightly. “You will expect me to be so prodigal of compliments at the end of the voyage, that I shall not praise your arrangements now. Are we ready?”
“A good journey!” called out old Hansen. Wareham waved his hat, Anne nodded and smiled, the boat moved smoothly along out into a world of reflected colours.
“Good-bye, Eden,” said Anne.