Later I understood the cruelty of that speech. It was cruel to be kind, but it was mighty cruel and a doubtful kindness. It woke old Saxton up. He took a breath and shook. He put a hand on her shoulder, standing straight and tall--a handsome, slim critter, if ever there lived one. "Listen!" he said, quiet, but all of him in it. "You shall care for me, just as I am--you understand? A fool, and a this, and a that--but you shall care." A look in her eyes--the kind of defy that grows of being scart--showed his talk wasn't all air. But it went in a second, and she whirled on him. "Why don't you advertise your intentions?" she demanded. "If I had an idea I should be so persecuted--" "Don't say persecuted, little girl," he answered her softly. "Let's be friends the rest of the trip. I'll trouble you no more,--by sea," he finished, smiling. She gripped the rail and looked out over the waters. Again her eyes turned to him for a second. He was worth it. That dark, long face of his, set off with his red neckerchief, made something for any woman to look at. And we're not always so darned fond of reasonable people as we make out. "If only--" she began, then bit back whatever it was. "Well, as you say," she wound up, "let us be friends. Isn't it foolish for us to quarrel so, Will?" she asked, turning to me. "I think you must feel we're both ridiculous." "I don't care whether you are or not," I said. "I like you both." Saxton looked pleased 'way back in his dark eyes. "That's the boy for my money!" he said. And then we three began to laugh. "It's all too beautiful to quarrel in," he said, waving an arm around. "To feel sorrowful on such a day, savage or civilized, really is ridiculous." She couldn't help giving him one last jab,--I make a guess he turned happy too soon to please her. If she didn't like him, she liked somebody who so much resembled him that she wanted to have him around to remind her. "Mr. Saxton's sorrows are soon healed," she said. "That's a valuable disposition." "I take _that_ as friendly, because I must," said he, smiling in a way, as with the other things he did, that was beautiful in a fashion of its own. She tried to buck against it, to keep sneering; but something so young and joyful was in his face, she couldn't help smiling back at him. So we walked the deck and talked about everything in the best of humors. VII "SAVE ME, ARTHUR!"