"Come, don't fret about possibilities," he said, kindly. "I'm not vexed now, and you must forgive me for calling you selfish."
"You don't think I am?"
"No, indeed! but just the darlingest little sister ever a fellow had. I shouldn't like—if anything should happen—to have you remember that as one of the last things I had said to you. No, I was the selfish one. Now good-bye, and don't worry about me," he said, holding her close, and kissing her several times; "you know, Vi dear, that we are under the same protecting care on sea and on land."
"Yes," she whispered, but with some hesitation, and drawing a deep sigh.
"Ah!" he said, "you doubt whether I shall be taken care of because I'm going without permission. Are you not forgetting that we have always been trained to think and decide for ourselves in all cases where it is right and proper for us to do so? And why should I need permission to go on the sea in a yacht any more than in a fishing-boat? Can you answer me that?" he concluded, half laughingly.
"No," she said, with a slight smile, "and I daresay you are in the right about it."
"Then you won't change your mind ('tis a woman's privilege, you know) and go along? It's not yet too late."
"No, thank you; I do not care to claim all the woman's privileges yet," she answered with playful look and tone.
"Hello, Ned! 'most ready?" shouted Charlie from below. "Time's about up."
They went down at once.