It was now for me to do my best to capture it, though when I had fastened it to my skiff, it was with great difficulty that I could stem the stream with it, and reach them. Having at length succeeded in this, the instant I arrived, in addition to innumerable thanks, many fair and braceleted wrists were now proffering full and fizzing bumpers of champagne, while others showered various fruits into my skiff.
Without any hesitation, I emptied a respectable number of glasses of their contents; and having declined the rest, they were reluctantly withdrawn, with the exception of one. I thought I might as well take that; I looked at its fair and kind donor, and—there was Miss Curzon! As I raised the glass to my lips, I glanced across its brim, and again the same depression of the slender figure—the same expression and mixture of fixed seriousness!
Now, then, I at last had a certainty of gleaning some tidings of her. I saw Maberly standing by her side, and, the next morning, I questioned him closely, but warily, upon the subject.
"I was rather lucky, last night, Maberly," I observed.
"Yes," he replied; "it was no common person who gave you that glass of wine. Do you not think she was very lovely?"
"There were several lovely persons," I answered.
"You know whom I mean."
"O yes," I prudently answered; "she was sitting on a sofa, close to the steerage, and gave me—bless her!—the first glass of wine."
"Thank you," said Maberly; "that was my sister."
"Then she was a very nice-looking person," I replied.