"It was only a foolish idea of mine, Jeanie. Of course there is no truth in it--there can't be--there must not be. He--that is, I have just discovered that he is deeply in love with Lillian. They have been engaged, and I fear the engagement is about to be renewed. Why, darling, he is not worthy of a thought of yours. Forget him, Jean, darling. It is only your imagination." Her voice choked, and she ended abruptly. For an instant not a sound broke the stillness, then Jean faced her sister with strained, wide-open eyes, and spoke to her in a voice that was quite steady, but curiously dull and unnatural. "I am very glad you have told me of this, Helen. Now that I think of it I am not greatly surprised. You need not worry about me. I am all right." They had ceased from their walking to and fro, and as they stood thus opposite each other Jean swayed a little. Helen flung both arms around her. "Oh, darling, what is it? Speak to me. It is only Helen. I love you so, dear." Jean suffered the embrace, but there was no responsive yielding in the slender, rigid figure. When Helen released her she drew away, and started toward the gate. Helen did not stir, and when Jean had gone a few steps she paused and turned her white, stricken face toward her sister. "You need not worry about me," she repeated, "I am all right." And then, with a pathetic outstretching of her hands, she added: "It was only my imagination." Helen sprang forward, but Jean waved her back, and in another moment the shadows of the gloaming hid the flitting figure from Helen's tearful eyes. CHAPTER XVII. THE "VORTEX" DEPARTS. "Let fall! Give way!" Two oars struck the water with a splash, and the dingey shot out from the gang steps of the _Sylph_ the steady strokes of two sturdy sailors sending the little craft swiftly on its way. The owner lounged lazily in the cushioned stern, one leg swung over the other, the tiller-ropes held loosely in his hands. They were sweeping under the stern of the _Vortex_ when a voice from the schooner's deck hailed them. The sailors held their oars suspended, and Churchill pushed back his cap and looked up, frowning slightly, for the sun was in his eyes. "Hello, Farr." "Hello, old man. Going ashore?" "Yes. Want a lift?" "Thanks, if you don't mind putting back." "Not a bit of it." The orders were given, and the dingey brought up to the gang steps. Farr sprang in and they pushed off, heading once more for land. Churchill pulled a cigar-case from his pocket and held it out to his companion, and then a brief silence ensued while each procured a light. "You've been something of a recluse for the last few days, Farr; I haven't seen you about. Been sticking close to your quarters?" "I've been grinding at the charts. Our stay here is about at an end, and Dodd is a little dissatisfied with the progress of our work. Through one cause and another we have been delayed, and the work has dragged."