The day was almost at its close when they drew near the islands.
With the rosy bloom of the setting sun shining upon their green slopes, the picture was one calculated to strike the eye as remarkably fine.
Especially would this be the case with an ocean traveler who for some days had looked upon nothing but a watery waste—the green trees and grass appeal to his heart. This is always the case after a voyage—land looks doubly inviting when necessity or desire for a change has taken us away from friendly shores.
The night fell before they drew close enough to port to give Roderic the opportunity of finding out whether the steamer he sought was among those anchored in the little bay.
Which was a keen disappointment to him.
As an ardent lover much allowance can be given so good a fellow.
Cleo was almost as eager—she felt a warm desire to look upon her successful rival face to face. There was no mean design in this, no hope of being able to find fault, or discover that Roderic had made a wretched choice.
She realized how furiously in love with the girl from Porto Rico this cousin of hers was, and since she had been unable to arouse such a passion within his breast, naturally she experienced a genuine desire to look upon the lovely being who had awakened the sacred fire in his bachelor heart.
Then again, Cleo was honest in her expressed desire to be friendly with one whom fortune seemed destined to make her cousin.
Glasses were of little avail, since night's shadows had begun to fall.