There was a pause. Natalie dropped her needle and thread, and hid her face in her hands. “If my poor mother was only alive,” she said; “if I only had an elder sister to advise me, and to take my part.”
She was evidently hesitating. Launce took a man’s advantage of her indecision. He pressed her without mercy.
“Do you love me?” he whispered, with his lips close to her ear.
“You know I do, dearly.”
“Put it out of Richard’s power to part us, Natalie.”
“Part us? We are cousins: we have known each other since we were both children. Even if he proposed parting us, papa wouldn’t allow it.”
“Mark my words, he will propose it. As for your father, Richard has only to lift his finger and your father obeys him. My love, the happiness of both our lives is at stake.” He wound his arm round her, and gently drew her head back on his bosom, “Other girls have done it, darling,” he pleaded, “why shouldn’t you?”
The effort to answer him was too much for her. She gave it up. A low sigh fluttered through her lips. She nestled closer to him, and faintly closed her eyes. The next instant she started up, trembling from head to foot, and looked at the sky-light. Richard Turlington’s voice was suddenly audible on deck exactly above them.
“Graybrooke, I want to say a word to you about Launcelot Linzie.”
Natalie’s first impulse was to fly to the door. Hearing Launce’s name on Richard’s lips, she checked herself. Something in Richard’s tone roused in her the curiosity which suspends fear. She waited, with her hand in Launce’s hand.