'I have read somewhere that ships of the kind rarely do come home in this prosaic and disappointing world; that some get wrecked almost within sight of land; others go down without the flapping of a sail, and sometimes after long and firm battling with adverse winds and tides; but _my ship_ is a sure craft, Dulcie,' he added, as he thought of the packet in his possession--that precious packet on which all his hopes rested and his daring ambition was founded. Dulcie looked at him wistfully and distrustfully, and thought-- 'Why is he so sure? But his ideas were always selfish and evil. Tide what may,' she added aloud, 'I shall wait twenty years and more for Florian.' 'The more fool you, then! And so die an old maid?' 'I am, perhaps, cut out for an old maid.' 'And if he never can marry you--or marries some one else when he can?' asked Shafto viciously. 'Oh, then I'll take to æstheticism, or women's rights, and all that sort of thing,' said the poor girl, with a ghastly and defiant attempt at a jest, which ended in tears, while Shafto eyed her angrily. 'How fond you are of that silver locket--you never wear any other!' 'I have so few ornaments, Shafto.' 'And none you prize so much?' 'None!' said Dulcie, with a sweet, sad smile. 'Is that the reason you wear it with all kinds of dresses? What is in it--anything?' 'That is my secret,' replied Dulcie, putting her right hand on it and instinctively drawing back a pace, for there was a menacing expression in the cold grey eyes of Shafto. 'Allow me to open it,' said he, taking her hand in his. 'No.' 'You shall!' 'Never!' exclaimed Dulcie, her eyes sparkling now as his grasp upon her hand tightened. An imprecation escaped Shafto, and with his eyes aflame and his cheeks pale with jealousy and rage he tore her hand aside and wrenched by brutal force the locket from her, breaking the silver necklet as he did so. 'Coward!' exclaimed Dulcie; 'coward and thief--how dare you? Surrender that locket instantly!' 'Not if I know it,' said he, mockingly, holding the prized trinket before her at arm's length. 'But for Florian's sake, I would at once apply to the police.' 'A vulgar resort--no, my pretty Dulcie, you wouldn't.' 'Why?' 'Not for Florian's sake?' 'Whose, then?' 'Your own, for you wouldn't like to have your old pump of a father down on you; and so you dare not make a row about it, my pretty little fury.' 'Shafto, I entreat you, give me back that photo,' said Dulcie, her tears welling forth. 'No; I won't.' 'Of what interest or use can it be to you?' 'More than you imagine,' said Shafto, to whom a villainous idea just then occurred. 'I entreat you,' said Dulcie, letting her muff drop and clasping her slim little hands. 'Entreat away! I feel deucedly inclined to put my heel upon it--but I won't.'