Flaming June - Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey

Guest wrung her hand, and turned aside. There was no time left to reason further. The future alone could prove the depth and stability of his love. He made his way to the gangway, his heart wrung with the sense of loss, of wounded love and pride. By his side men and women sobbed and cried, while others laughed and exchanged merry banter with their friends on board. To some this meant a parting for life; to others a pleasure excursion across the ocean ferry. Among them all, was there one whose loss was as his own?

A wild impulse seized him to push his way back and remain on the boat for the first stage of the journey, but the steady stream bore him onward, and, as in a dream, he found himself standing on the stage, and saw the gangway descend. He stood in the crowd and heard a woman sob by his side. She was waving her handkerchief to a sad-faced man, who stood on the spot which Cornelia had vacated but a minute before. Now she had disappeared. Guest’s eyes searched for her hungrily, but in vain. It was only as the vessel slowly moved from the stage that she came into sight; a small dark figure standing alone on the upper deck, with the sunlight shining on ruddy locks, and on a white face turned outwards towards the sea.