And the vivacious reply of a steward: "Very good, sir." The owner was lounging in a corner, with a gloomy, bored look on his face. But as soon as the _portière_ stirred and he saw the smiles of Madame Piriac and Audrey upon him, his whole demeanour changed in an instant. He sprang up, laughed, furtively smoothed his waistcoat, and managed to convey the general idea that he had a keen interest in life, and that the keenest part of that interest was due to a profound instinctive desire to serve these two beautiful benefactors of mankind--the idea apparently being that the charming creatures had conferred a favour on the human race by consenting to exist. He cooed round them, he offered them cushions, he inquired after their physical condition, he expressed his fear lest the cabins had not contained every convenience that caprice might expect. He was excited; surely he was happy! Audrey persuaded herself that this must, after all, be his true normal condition while aboard the yacht, and that the ennui visible on his features a moment earlier could only have been transient and accidental. "I am sure the piano is as wonderful as all else on board," said Madame Piriac. "Do play!" he entreated. "I love to hear music here. My secretary plays for me when I am alone." "I, who do not adore music!" Madame Piriac protested against the invitation. But she sat down on the clamped music stool and began a waltz. "Ah!" said Mr. Gilman, dropping into a seat by Audrey. "I wish I danced!" "But you don't mean to say you don't," said Audrey, with fascination. She felt that she could fascinate him, and that it was her duty to fascinate him. Mr. Gilman responded to the challenge. "I suppose I do," he said modestly. "We must have a dance on deck one night. I'll tell my secretary to get the gramophone into order. I have a pretty good one." "How lovely!" Audrey agreed. "I do think the _Ariadne's_ the most heavenly thing, Mr. Gilman! I'd no idea what a yacht was! I hope you'll tell me the proper names for all the various parts--you know what I mean. I hate to use the wrong words. It's not polite on a yacht, is it?" His smile was entranced. "You and I will go round by ourselves to-morrow morning, Mrs. Moncreiff," he said.