"Act the fourth!" said I, bringing my eyes to Grace's face. "One more act and then over goes the show, as the Cockneys say."
"Aren't you glad to be here, Herbert?"
"I could kneel, my duck. But how good those people are! How well they have behaved! Such utter strangers as we are to them! What did Mrs. Barstow give you?"
She put her hand in her pocket, opened the little parcel, and produced an Indian bracelet, a wonderfully cunning piece of work in gold.
"Upon my word!" cried I.
"How kind of her!" exclaimed Grace, with her eyes sparkling, though I seemed to catch a faint note of tears in her voice. "I shall always remember dear Mrs. Barstow."
"And what yacht is this?" said I, casting my eyes around. "A beautiful little ship indeed. How exquisitely white are these planks! What money, by George! in everything the eye rests upon!"
The master, who had remained on the bridge to start the yacht, now approached. He saluted us with the respectful air of a man used to fine company, but I instantly observed, on his glancing at Grace, that his eye rested upon the wedding ring.
"I presume you are the captain?" said I.
"I am, sir."