“Polly, you are cruel, and you know it! Here it has been many, many long weeks since Christmas, when you showed me enough heart to make me believe that you truly loved me. But you froze up again, the next day, and since then you try to make yourself and others believe that you consider me only in the light of a good friend. If it takes serious illness or adversity to rouse your love, I’ll do something desperate to prove you!” Tom’s threat sounded ominous.
“Tom, I really think you are mentally deranged. I’ve told you over and again, that I shall take ample time to weigh my future life. It’s not going to be a case of ‘marry in haste; repent at leisure.’ I have wanted to travel and see the world, and now that I have the opportunity, it is sheer selfishness on your part to try to dissuade me from such joy and pleasure.”
“Oh, Polly! I am the least selfish lover in the world. I tag on at your heels and never receive any mark of your affection. Why, you scarcely deign to notice me, when other admirers are at hand.”
“That’s not true, but I do try to show them the same attention and consideration that any sensible girl ought to. I have said emphatically that I am not to be considered as having been captured by you, and the fact that I have to assert myself to prove it to our friends may make you think it is as you say. It is your fault that this is so. I prefer to be impartial and not give myself all the extra trouble to act as I feel, entirely free and glad to dance or enjoy the society of other young men besides yourself.”
Tom made no reply, but sat staring gloomily out over the water. Polly sent him a side glance and thought to herself: “There, that frank statement ought to hold him for a time, at least!”
The two felt that their tête-à-tête had best end before it terminated in the usual disagreement regarding love. The sky became mottled with beautiful drifting clouds which formed slowly into the long, scaly appearance of what is known as a “mackerel sky.” The smoothness of the sea had become a choppy, complaining surface of murmuring wavelets. The color reflected from the brooding sky had turned the glassy waters into a grey ominous sheet.
Almost within the shaft of light coming from the saloon lights, Polly and Tom came face to face with the Captain. He saluted and said: “Better get ready for a turn to-night. I’ve just been warning Mr. Dalken, but he seems to think I am borrowing trouble. If you listen to me, you will tie yourselves in bed in order to spare yourselves being rolled out unceremoniously before dawn.”
Polly laughed and thanked the amiable Captain, and Tom stood for a moment after the officer had left them, and stared out at the sullen sea.
“It looks perfectly calm,” remarked Tom.
“Looks often belie the true condition underneath,” returned Polly, precociously. Tom looked at her and laughed appreciatively.