"Because you could see it so much better at the other end?" said Mrs Bolter, drily. "No; but because we could see it uninterruptedly," replied the Resident, coolly. "Oh no, you could not, Mr Harley," continued the little lady, "because you see I have come to interrupt your _tete-a-tete_. Helen, my dear, will you come back and join us on the other deck?" "To be sure she will, my dear Mrs Bolter, and I shall come too. There, mind those ropes. That's better. What a glorious evening! I hope I am to have the pleasure of showing you ladies many that are far more beautiful on the Darak river." Little Mrs Bolter looked up at him meaningly; but the Resident's eyes did not flinch; he only gave her a quiet nod in reply, and they climbed once more to the quarter-deck, where, in preparation for the coming darkness, the sailors were busily hanging lamps. They had no sooner reached the group of people around Dr Bolter, than, as if to revenge herself for the annoyance to which she had been subjected, Helen disengaged her hand, walked quickly up to the Reverend Arthur, and began to talk to him in a low earnest voice. "If she would only keep away from poor Arthur," muttered the little lady, "I would not care--she is making him infatuated. And now there's Henry talking to that thin dark lady again. I wish he would not talk so much to her." "Married late in life," said the Resident, quietly, as he lit a cigar; "but she seems to have her share of jealousy. She's a dear, good little woman, though, all the same." He walked to the side watching Helen where she stood beneath one of the newly lit lamps, looking very attractive in the faint reflected rays of the sunset mingled with those shed down from above upon her glossy hair. "Why does she go so much to gossip with that chaplain? If it is to pique me it is labour in vain, for I have not a _soupcon_ of jealousy in my composition. She is very beautiful and she knows it too. What a head and neck, and what speaking eyes!" He stood smoking for a few minutes and then went on: "Speaking eyes? Yes, they are indeed. It is no fancy, but it seems to have been to lead me on; and as I judge her, perhaps wrongfully, she loves to drag every man she sees in her train. Well, she has made a mistake this time if she thinks she is going to play with me. I feel ashamed of myself sometimes when I think of how easily I let her noose me, but it is done." He lit a fresh cigar, and still stood watching Helen. "Sometimes," he continued, "I have called myself idiot for this sudden awakening of a passion that I thought dead; but no, the man who receives encouragement from a woman like that is no idiot. It is the natural consequence that he should love her." Just then three or four of the passengers, officers and civil officials, sauntered up to Helen, and after the first few words she joined with animation in the conversation; but not without darting a quick glance once or twice in the Resident's direction.