"You, at least, dance rather well. There are not many Englishmen who really do, which is, perhaps, no great disadvantage, after all."
Austin laughed, though he was a trifle perplexed. "Well," he said, "though you don't overwhelm me with compliments, as a rule, you have told me that I could dance before. Now, however, one could almost fancy that the fact didn't meet with your approval."
Jacinta looked at him reflectively over her fan. "I scarcely supposed you would understand, and one does not always feel in the mood to undertake a logical exposition of their views. Still, here's Muriel, and she, at least, generally seems to know just what she means. Suppose you ask her what she thinks of dancing."
Austin did so, and Miss Gascoyne, who was crossing the deck-bridge with Farquhar, stopped beside them.
"I don't think there is any harm in dancing, in itself—in fact, I have just been waltzing with Captain Farquhar," she said. "Of course, the disadvantage attached to amusements of any kind is that they may distract one's attention from more serious things. Don't you think so, Captain Farquhar?"
Farquhar caught Austin's eye, and grinned wickedly, but Miss Gascoyne, who failed to notice this, glanced towards the steamer which had just come in.
"That must be the African boat, but I suppose there is no use expecting any news?" she said quietly, though there was a faint suggestive tremour in her voice.
She passed on with Farquhar, and Jacinta glanced at Austin with a little enquiring smile.
"If I had a sister who persisted in talking in that aggravatingly edifying fashion, I should feel tempted to shake her," he said. "Still, one could forgive her a good deal if only for the way she looked at the West-coast boat. It suggested that she has as much humanity in her as there is in the rest of us, after all."
"Still, don't you think there was a little reason in what she said?"