"Papa's wishing that he were inside there, warm and messy and spoiling good food," said she. "Why don't you _get_ a fad, Huntington?" "Cécile intimated last night that I was rapidly doing so." "And what is that?" "She declined to say, but I think that it had some reference to yourself." Paula did not immediately reply. With both elbows on the schooner's high rail she stared into the grey-green water eddying sluggishly alongside. Wood watched her, and his fine eyes kindled. Experiences of the past year had taught the young man many things about life and character, and he was beginning to be able to tell the pure from the alloyed metal. Never in his life had he known Cécile Bell to be as lovely as the night before at his dinner-party, nor had he ever found her so sweet and sympathetic. But not one flash of the old emotion had been rekindled. His eyes had been so evidently filled with Paula that in the end Cécile had grown slightly piqued and turned her attentions to Mr. Poole, whom she speedily reduced to abject slavery. Paula was sufficiently pretty, when it came to that. Her charm was of a sweet, gentle sort, which was destined to grow with her character. She was fuller of figure than either of her sisters, with a great abundance of chestnut hair, which held deep, auburn tones. Like the other two girls her complexion was clear to transparency, and the general type was Keltic; French or Irish. In repose, Paula was as quiet as a nun, but when she became interested in conversation to the point of self-forgetfulness, the change to a vivid animation was almost startling. On these occasions the rich colour flooded her face, her words were rapid and vehement, and she gestured as freely as a Frenchwoman. Paula was a continual surprise to those who knew her but slightly. She raised herself from the rail and let her clear, jade-coloured eyes rest thoughtfully on Wood. There was a faint tinge of colour in her cheeks, damp from the fog. "I was wondering how long it would be before Cécile became jealous," said she. "Cécile has no reason to be jealous," Wood replied. "I offered her all that I had and she very graciously declined it, but desired to be a sister to me. I accepted the honour with gratitude. _Eh, voilà!_" Paula looked into the fog. Wood gave a little laugh. "Of course," he went on, "it is one thing to offer to be a sister and another to consent to be a sister-in-law." [Illustration: "It is one thing to offer to be a sister and another to consent to be a sister-in-law"] "Don't speak in that flippant way, Huntington." Wood stepped to her side and laid his hand upon her gloved one as it rested on the rail.