Meanwhile Ella and Clarence had engaged a small, swift boat to row them across to the foot of Mount Edgecumbe Park; and climbing at a great pace up the steep road that skirts the walls, they got into the field below Maker Church to get a last glimpse of the yacht. They were in time to see clearly against the blue of sea and sky the bright-hued pavilion with its curtains thrown back, and a group of scarcely distinguishable figures underneath. “Yes--yes, I can see them--I can see them, George and Nouna and Sundran, too!” said Clarence excitedly. Ella was shorter-sighted, stamped her foot with impatience because she could not make them out, and was fain to be content with watching the yacht until it was a mere speck. At last she could scarcely see it, for her eyes grew dim with rising tears. Clarence had now time to feel angrily jealous of her interest in the vessel. “Poor little girl! Poor little Nouna!” she said at last. “How white and worn she looks still, so different from the brilliant little creature who came to us at Maple Lodge!” “Perhaps she will die and leave him free,” said Clarence rather bitterly. But Ella’s expression changed to one of sincerest anxiety. “Oh, no, indeed I hope she won’t! It would break his heart!” she said. “I thought you considered her such an inappropriate wife for him?” Ella reddened. She had thought so once, and she thought so no longer; but when and how her thoughts and feelings on the subject had changed, she hardly knew. “It is very difficult to judge accurately in such matters. You see it’s impossible to deny that they’re passionately fond of each other, and you mustn’t judge of the chances of a marriage by the way it came about, you know.” “No,” said Clarence, interested, “marriage is an odd thing.” “Well,” said Ella brusquely, “we must be getting back now.” “Won’t you wait till the yacht’s out of sight?” Ella stopped and looked out to sea again, but she dug the end of her sunshade into the ground with nervous impatience. “I’m so sorry it’s all over; we’ve had such a jolly time getting it all ready, haven’t we?” said he sentimentally. “Oh, yes, well enough,” she answered rather crossly, feeling herself an unpleasant void at the heart which she feared might lead to some foolish exhibition of weakness. “It was an interest in life, wasn’t it?” “Oh, yes, but there are plenty more left.” “For you, yes, because you’re so good.” “Nonsense, I’m no better than you might be if you liked. It was your money that did most of it, remember. I assure you I don’t forget the obligation.” “Now, Ella, don’t be ridiculous. What do I care about the miserable money?” “You’d care a great deal, if you were wise. A rich man who makes himself comparatively poor by the good things he does with his money is a fine fellow.” Clarence cleared his throat two or three times, and began to shake violently.