Away over the quiet sea the little yacht steamed, the red-gold evening sunlight bathing her decks and cresting with jewels each tiny wave in her track. Under the silken canopy of the little pavilion George was still sitting, with Nouna curled up asleep by his side; while the freshening breeze, which rustled in the heavily fringed curtains, blew straight in his face, bringing health and hope with its eager kiss, and sweeping away like noxious vapours the dark memories of the bygone winter. Ambition was stirring again within him, and a craving for hard work, that his faults and follies in the past might be atoned for by worthy achievement in the future. Lost in thought, he had for a moment forgotten the present, when a slight movement of her right arm, which lay across his own, brought his sleeping wife again to his recollection. Bending down with a softened expression in his eyes, he looked long at the tiny face, the sweeping black eye-lashes, and the full red lips, the mutinous curves of which gave him a warning he scarcely needed that, when once the depression of weak health was past, it might still need all his love for her and all her love for him to keep the little wilful creature within the due bounds of dignified matronhood. The “semblance of a soul,” as Rahas called it, had indeed peeped forth in her, and George Lauriston’s belief that “the influence of an honest man’s love was stronger than that of any mesmerist who ever hid pins,” had been amply justified; but Nouna was not, and never would be, the harmless domestic creature, absorbed in household duties, whom a husband can neglect or ignore with impunity. Such as she was, however, George was more than content that she should be, and the wavering young heart which had turned to him in the dark days he was determined by every loving and wise means to keep true to him in the brighter time. And so, with good promise of a fair future, the sun went down in a golden haze on the calm sea, as the yacht still sped on for the warm lands of orange and palm. THE END. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES Florence Warden was the pseudonym of Florence Alice (Price) James. The Ward & Downey edition (3 vol., London, 1887) was referenced for most of the changes listed below. Minor spelling inconsistencies (_e.g._ armchair/arm-chair, lattice-work/lattice work, etc.) have been preserved. Alterations to the text: Punctuation: missing periods, quotation mark pairings/nestings, etc. Italicize two incidents of “fiacre” to maintain consistency. [Chapter VI] Change “At last a board _creeked_ in the hall outside” to _creaked_. [Chapter VII] “of which her _vegetabe_ nature… began to _describle_ to her visitor” to _vegetable_ and _describe_, respectively. [Chapter X] “Miss Nouna Weston to our office _a_ quickly as possible on receipt” to _as_. [Chapter XI] “and was _familar_ with every phase of fast life” to _familiar_. [Chapter XII]