“I—I’m so frightened, Jess!” she gasped.
“Why, you silly! I thought you said you were a good sailor?”
“It isn’t that,” Nell told her. “Don’t—don’t you smell it?”
“Don’t I smell what?”
“Come in and shut the door. Now smell—smell hard!”
Jessie began to giggle. “What do you mean? Why! I see a little haze of smoke by the window. Do I, or don’t I?”
“I opened the window to let it out. But—but it comes more and more, Jessie,” stammered the clergyman’s daughter. “I believe the yacht is on fire, Jessie!”
“Oh! Don’t say that!” murmured Jessie Norwood, suddenly frightened herself.
“When I came in the room was full of smoke and—don’t you smell it?”
“It doesn’t smell very nice,” admitted her friend. “Where does the smoke come from? Where can it come from?”