Lorimer flushed slightly, but made no remark, and at that moment
Macfarlane emerged from the saloon, where the writing of his journal had
till now detained him. In the general handshaking and salutations which
followed, the conversation took a different turn, for which Lorimer was
devoutly thankful. His face was a tell-tale one,--and he was rather
afraid of Philip's keen eyes. "I hope to Heaven he'll speak to her
to-day," he thought, vexedly. "I hate being in suspense! My mind will be
easier when I once know that he has gained his point,--and that there's
not the ghost of a chance for any other fellow!"
Meanwhile the yacht skimmed along by the barren and rocky coast of
Seiland; the sun was dazzling; yet there was a mist in the air as though
the heavens were full of unshed tears. A bank of nearly motionless
clouds hung behind the dark, sharp peaks of the Altenguard mountains,
which now lay to the southward, as the vessel pursued her course. There
was no wind; the flag on the mast flapped idly now and then with the
motion of the yacht; and Thelma found herself too warm with her pretty
crimson hood,--she therefore unfastened it and let the sunshine play on
the uncovered gold of her hair.
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