Chester looked in the direction indicated. A man came up, then passed on; it was not the minister. The girl crouched into the shadow, and as she did so her shoulder pressed against Chester's. Then she sprang up.
"Well, I was foolish," she exclaimed, "to be afraid of dear old daddy!"
Chester also arose, and the two walked to the railing. They stood there in the moonlight. Great clouds of black smoke poured from the ship's funnels, and streamed on to windward, casting a shadow on the white deck. They looked out to the water, stretching in every direction into the darkness. Then as if impelled by a common impulse, they looked at each other, then blushed, and lowered their eyes. The girl's hands lay on the railing. Chester saw their soft shapeliness, and noted also that there were no rings on them.
"I'm glad I've met you," said Chester honestly.
"And I'm glad, too," she breathed. "Some other time you must tell me so much. I've so many questions to ask. You'll do that, won't you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Now I must go to father. He may be uneasy." She held out her hand. "Good night—what do you think of me? Am I a rude girl?"
"I heard your father call you Lucy. That's your name, isn't it?"
"Yes."