"This would be entirely different from ordinary travel. The first vice-president has his yacht on the Pacific Coast, and offers her to the board of directors for a summer's cruise."
"How far will you go?" questioned Boyd.
"Clear up to Mr. Marsh's station."
"Kalvik?"
"Yes; that is the plan," Marsh chimed in. "The scenery is more marvellous than that of Norway, the weather is delightful. Moreover, The Grande Dame is the best-equipped yacht on the Pacific, so the board of directors can take their families with them, and enjoy a wonderful outing among the fjords and glaciers beneath the midnight sun. You see, I am selfish in urging it, Miss Wayland. I expect you to join the party."
"I am sure you would like it, Mildred," the magnate added.
Boyd could scarcely believe his ears. Would they come to Kalvik? Would they all assemble there in that unmapped nook? And suppose they should—had he the courage to continue his mad enterprise? It was all so unreal! He was torn between the desire to have Mildred agree, and fear of the influence Marsh might gain during such a trip. But Miss Wayland evidently had an eye to her own comfort, for she replied:
"No, indeed! The one thing I abhor above land travel is a sea voyage; I am a wretched sailor."
"But this trip would be worth while," urged her father. "Why, it will be a regular voyage of discovery; I am as excited over it as a country boy on circus day."
Marsh seconded him with all his powers of persuasion, but the girl, greatly to Emerson's surprise, merely reaffirmed her determination.