"Captain," Norma had said, her heart pounding, "can't you put me on shore? I must be in New York to-morrow—it's very important! If I get a coat, will you let me go in when you go?"
He had measured her with his usual polite, impersonal gaze.
"Miss Sheridan, I really could not do it, Miss! If it was a telegram, or something of that sort——But if anything was to happen to you, Miss, it would be—it really would be most unfortunate!"
Norma had stood still, choking. And in the starlight he had seen the glitter of tears in her eyes.
"Couldn't you put it to Mrs. Craigie, Miss? I'm sure she'd send someone—one of the maids——"
But Norma shook her head. It would anger Caroline, and perhaps Caroline's mother, and Annie, too, to have her upset the cruise by her own foolish plans. There was no hope of her hostess's consent. What!—send a girl of eighteen down to New York for dear knows what fanciful purpose, without a hint from parent or guardian? Mrs. Craigie knew the modern girl far too well for that, even if it had not been personally extremely inconvenient to herself to spare a maid. They were rather short of maids, for two or three of them had been quite ill.
The launch had put off, with Captain Burns in the stern. Norma had stood watching it, with her heart of lead. Oh, to be running away—flying—on the train—in the familiar streets! They could forgive her later—or never——
"Norma, aren't you naughty?" Caroline had interrupted her thoughts, and had slipped a hand through her arm. "Buoso is going to sing—do come in! My dear, you know that last hand? Well, we made it——!"
The next two days were the slowest, the hardest, the bitterest of Norma's life. She felt that nobody had ever had to bear so aching a heart as hers, as the most beautiful yacht in the world skimmed over the blue ocean, and the sun shone down on her embroidered linen suit, and her white shoes, and the pearl ring that Caroline had given her for her birthday.
What were they doing at Aunt Kate's? What were they saying as the hours went by? At what stage was the cake—and the gown? Was Rose really to be married to-morrow—to-day?