Luckily Miss Talbot's dark doubts had vanished after one keen glance at Daubeney. He was eminently a safe friend for her future husband. Such a fat and hail-fellow-well-met individual could not possibly harbour guile. So she passed over without reference the extent of Daubeney's acquaintance concerning herself, implied by the use of her Christian name. Indeed, was there not a compliment in Fairholme's unconscious outspokenness? If he only discussed her charms with Daubeney then Daubeney was a man to be cultivated. The meeting on the quay was hearty in the extreme, and the Honourable James Daubeney further ingratiated himself by saying: "Even if Lord Fairholme had not told me who you were, Miss Talbot, I should have known you at once." "That would be very clever of you," purred Edith. "Oh, no, there is nothing remarkable in the fact, I assure you. He always sat in his chambers so that he could look at your photograph, and as, in addition to that speaking likeness, I know the colour of your hair, your eyes, your teeth even, I could not be mistaken." Miss Talbot thought Mr. Daubeney rather curious. But still he was very nice, and unquestionably the services of the _Blue-Bell_ might be more than useful. So she was graciousness personified in her manner, and promptly determined to invite him to luncheon, thinking that the chance direction of their conversation with Mr. Brett might lead towards the use of the yacht being hinted at. She counted without Fairholme. The latter slapped his heavy friend on the back. "Look here, old chap, are you fixed up for a cruise? Plenty of coal, champagne, and all that sort of thing?" "Loaded to the gunwales." "That's all right, because we may want the _Blue-Bell_ for a month or so." "There she is," said Daubeney; "fit to go anywhere and do anything." Miss Talbot had never heard such extraordinary conduct in her life. She wondered how two women would have conducted the negotiations. The question was too abstruse, so she gave it up and contented herself instead with accepting Daubeney's hearty request that they should inspect the yacht. The _Blue-Bell_ was an extremely smart little ship of 250 tons register, and an ordinary speed of twelve knots. Incidentally Miss Talbot discovered that the owner made the vessel his home. He was never happy away from her, and the _Blue-Bell_ was known to every yachtsman from the Hebrides to the Golden Horn. To eke out her coal supply she was fitted with sails, and Daubeney assured his fair visitor that the _Blue-Bell_ could ride out a gale as comfortably and safely as any craft afloat. Altogether Miss Talbot congratulated herself on Fairholme's discovery, and she could not help hoping that their strange errand to Marseilles might eventuate in a Mediterranean chase. When the tour of inspection had ended Daubeney suggested an excursion.