“I wish to return, Mr Harley,” she said, imperiously.
“You shall return, my dear young lady, when I have said that which I wish to say.”
“What can you wish to say to me?” she said, haughtily.
“That which your eyes have been asking me if I could say, ever since we met a fortnight ago, Helen, and that which I have determined to say while there is time.”
Helen Perowne shrank away, but there was a power of will in her companion that seemed to subdue her, and in spite of herself she was led to the forward part of the vessel, just as the sun had dipped below the horizon; the heavens were lit up like the sea with a gorgeous blaze of orange, purple, green, and gold; and little Mrs Doctor Bolter exclaimed:
“That wicked, coquettish girl away again! Grey Stuart, my dear, where has your schoolfellow gone?”