Helga went and sat down by Mrs. Hardy.
"He is teasing me," she said, as she laid her head on Mrs. Hardy's lap.
"John," said Mrs. Hardy, as she touched Helga's cheek, "you do not take care of your Scandinavian princess; her skin is so thin and clear, that this little cheek is at fever heat with the action of the sun and wind. Tell my maid to bring the lotion I use, and a sponge."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hardy," said Helga, "but I do not mind the sun burning me; it makes my face a little warm, that is all."
"She does not know how handsome she is, John," said Mrs. Hardy, in French; "but her beauty lies in this, that there is nothing so beautiful as what is true."
After lunch, John Hardy told one of his men to fetch some rope quoits, to amuse Axel, and cleared part of the deck for the purpose. Helga, however, joined in the game with the zest of a child; her clear voice and laughter and natural grace made conquests of the yacht sailors.
"Uncommon neat about the spars!" exclaimed an old salt; "a smart craft when she's got all her sails bent, I'll be bound."
"Well, pilot," said Hardy, "where can you put us in for shelter for the night? We want to go up the Christiania Fjord by daylight, and when the ladies will be on deck. It has, besides, been a long run for the engineers."
"We shall have Frederikstad abeam at ten tonight, if she goes as she's going, and we can lay off there until the morning," replied the pilot. "There is no anger in the weather, and it will be a fine night. In fact, there will be no night; we are close on St. Hans' night, the longest day."
"We will keep the fires banked, anyway," said Hardy, "and set a watch.''