"Not later than five, I should think."
"Don't let's commit ourselves, Helen," suggested Jean. "It is such a bore, and we will be troubling about it all the afternoon."
"We must be home by five; I am not willing to leave the children any longer than that."
"Perhaps you can manage the wind to suit your own purposes. You know it generally plays more or less of a part in sailing," and Jean gave a vicious tug at the last unfastened strap.
"Don't be impertinent, Jean," Nathalie called out, as she ran swiftly upstairs. "Never mind, Helen, her youth is her only excuse."
"All the same, we shall be home on time if possible, dearie."
Jean laughed good-humoredly.
"I am always disagreeable," she admitted, "when anyone speaks with decision. I don't know why, but it sets my teeth on edge."
Dudley met them at the wharf with the cutter from the Vortex, and soon they were pulling swiftly out to the Cyclone's mooring. As they rounded the stern of the old oyster sloop, a young man was seen standing at the wheel, his slender figure held firmly erect, one hand shading his eyes as he scanned the blue waters of the sound.
"Who is that?" whispered Mollie.