“I quite believe you,” said the young lady, raising her eyes for a moment, and gazing down on the tablecloth again. Then she looked brightly up once more, and said archly:
“I hope it won’t make you conceited, but I walked the deck to-night with fear tugging at my heart. I don’t think I ever was so glad in my life as when I saw the flare, as had been arranged, and knew you were safe. When I heard you talking to Mr. Hemster in the boat, your voice floated over the water very distinctly, and I think I breathed a little expression of gratitude.”
“Hilda,” said I, leaning across the table, “it is very kind of you to say that.”
Here, to my annoyance, the Japanese boy came into the saloon, although I had told him I had no further need for him that night. He approached us, and said respectfully, and I am sure somewhat unwillingly:
“Miss Hemster’s compliments, sir, and she wishes you would stop chattering here all night long, so that people could get to sleep.”
Miss Stretton sprang to her feet, a crimson flush coming into her face.
“Thank Miss Hemster for me,” said I to the Japanese, “and inform her that we will finish our conversation on deck.”
“No, no!” cried Hilda peremptorily; “it is terribly late, and it is too bad of me keeping you talking here when you should be resting. I assure you I did not intend to remain on deck after I had learned of your safe arrival.”
“I know that, Hilda. It was when you saw me stagger that, like the kind-hearted girl you are, you came forward. Now, do come up on deck with me, if only for five minutes.”
“No, no,” she repeated in a whisper.