But he was too late; for, as he spoke, a lady-like figure entered the room, and the bright, fair, girlish face, with its clustering curls of rich dark-brown hair, turned from one to the other in a timid, apologetic way.
“I am sorry,” she faltered. “You are engaged. My husband arranged—”
“Come in, my dear—come in,” said Mr Parkley, hopping off his stool, taking her hands, and patting them affectionately, as he placed her in a chair. “We’ve about done for to-day; and if we had not, there’s nothing you might not hear. I’ll be bound to say, Pugh keeps nothing from you.”
“But she is beautiful!” muttered the Cuban, with sparkling eyes, as his lips parted, and a warm flush came into his creamy cheeks; while Dutch turned pale as he saw his admiration, and the vague feeling of dread came once more in combination with one of dislike.
Story 1--Chapter III.
Under Water and Under Current.
“But I am not polite, my dear,” said Mr Parkley. “This is Señor Manuel Lorry, a gentleman from Havana. Señor, Mrs Pugh, the wife of my future partner, and almost my daughter.”
The Cuban bowed low as the young Englishwoman rose and looked anxiously at him, her eyes falling directly, and she blushed vividly, as though her fair young cheeks were scorched beneath his ardent gaze.