"Fancy!" she exclaimed, looking at me with eyes like stars. And then, recovering herself, she added in another tone: "Now don't you think it was very forward to rendezvous at a private castle?" "Oh, I thought I could make myself solid before she arrived," I said. "Fyles," she said, "I am beginning to have a different opinion of you. You are not as straightforward as a ffrench ought to be--and, though I'm ashamed to say it of you--but you are positively conceited." "Unsay, take back, those angry words," I said; and even as I did so the anchor went splash and I could hear the telegraph jingle in the engine-room. "And so you're rich," said Verna, "awfully, immensely, disgustingly rich, and you've been masquerading all this afternoon as a charming pauper!" "I don't think I said charming," I remarked. "But I say it," said Verna, "because, really you know, you're awfully nice, and I like you, and I'm glad from the bottom of my heart that you are rich!" "Thank you," I said, "I'm glad, too." "Now we must go down and meet your boat," said Verna. "See, there it is, coming in--though I still think it was cheeky of you to tell them to land uninvited." "Oh, let them wait!" I said. "No, no, we must go and meet them," said Verna, "and I'm going to ask that glorious old fox with the yellow beard whether it's all true or not!" "You can't believe it yet?" I said. "You've only yourself to thank for it," she said. "I got used to you as one thing--and here you are, under my eyes, turning out another." I could not resist saying "Fancy!" though she did not seem to perceive any humour in my exclamation of it, and took it as a matter of course. Besides, she had risen now, and bade me follow her down the stairs. It was really fine to see the men salute me as we walked down to the boat, and the darkies' teeth shining at the sight of me (for I'm a believer in the coloured sailor) and old Neilsen grinning respectfully in the stern-sheets. "Neilsen," I said, "tell this young lady my name!" "Mr. ffrench, sir," he answered, considerably astonished at the question. "Little f or big F, Neilsen?" "Little f, sir," said Neilsen. "There, doubter!" I said to Verna. She had her hand on my arm and was smiling down at the men from the little stone pier on which we stood. "Fyles," she said, "you must land and dine with us to-night, not only because I want you to, but because you ought to meet my father." "About when?" I asked. "Seven-thirty," she answered; and then, in a lower voice, so that the men below might not hear: "Our fairy tale is coming true, isn't it, Fyles?" "Right to the end," I said. "There were two ends," she said. "Mine and yours." "Oh, mine," I said; "that is, if you'll live up to your part of it!" "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Throw over the Beast and be my Princess," I said, trying to talk lightly, though my voice betrayed me. "Perhaps I will," she answered. "Perhaps!" I repeated. "That isn't any answer at all."