“I remember well,” said Mr. Harwood. “How pleased every one was, and also how--well, the weather was extremely warm in the Red Sea just before he proposed. But I certainly think that this voyage is likely to be quite as pleasant. By the way, what a charming protégée you have got this time, Mrs. Crawford.” “She is a dear girl indeed, and I hope that she may find her father all right at the Cape. Think of what she must suffer.” Mr. Harwood glanced round and saw that Mr. Glaston had strolled up to Daireen's chair. “Yes, I have no doubt that she suffers,” he said. “But she is so gentle, so natural in her thoughts and in her manner, I should indeed be sorry that any trouble would come to her.” He was himself speaking gently now--so gently, in fact, that Mrs. Crawford drew her lips together with a slight pressure. “Perhaps it is because I am so much older than she that she talks to me naturally as she would to her father. I am old enough to be her father, I suppose,” he added almost mournfully. But this only made the lady's lips become more compressed. She had heard men talk before now of being old enough to be young ladies' fathers, and she could also recollect instances of men who were actually old enough to be young ladies' grandfathers marrying those very young ladies. “Yes,” said Mrs. Crawford, “Daireen is a dear natural little thing.” Into the paternal potentialities of Mr. Harwood's position towards this dear natural little thing Mrs. Crawford did not think it judicious to go just then. “She is a dear child,” he repeated. “By the way, we shall be at Funchal at noon to-morrow, and we do not leave until the evening. You will land, I suppose?” “I don't think I shall, I know every spot so well, and those bullock sleighs are so tiresome. I am not so young as I was when I first made their acquaintance.” “Oh, really, if that is your only plea, my dear Mrs. Crawford, we may count on your being in our party.” “Our party!” said the lady. “I should not say that until I get your consent,” said Harwood quickly. “Miss Gerald has never been at the island, you see, and she is girlishly eager to go ashore. Miss Butler and her mother are also landing”--these were other passengers--“and in a weak moment I volunteered my services as guide. Don't you think you can trust me so far as to agree to be one of us?” “Of course I can,” she said. “If Daireen wishes to go ashore you may depend upon my keeping her company. But you will have to provide a sleigh for myself.” “You may depend upon the sleigh, Mrs. Crawford; and many thanks for your trusting to my guidance. Though I sleigh you yet you will trust me.” “Mr. Harwood, that is dreadful. I am afraid that Mrs. Butler will need one of them also.” “The entire sleigh service shall be impressed if necessary,” said the “special,” as he walked away.