“Oh well, we had better not stay all night!” her mother exclaimed, but still without moving. The girl moved, after a moment’s hesitation;—she rose and accompanied Jasper to the other room. I saw how her slim tallness showed to advantage as she walked, and that she looked well as she passed, with her head thrown back, into the darkness of the other part of the house. There was something rather marked, rather surprising—I scarcely knew why, for the act in itself was simple enough—in her acceptance of such a plea, and perhaps it was our sense of this that held the rest of us somewhat stiffly silent as she remained away. I was waiting for Mrs. Mavis to go, so that I myself might go; and Mrs. Nettlepoint was waiting for her to go so that I mightn’t. This doubtless made the young lady’s absence appear to us longer than it really was—it was probably very brief. Her mother moreover, I think, had now a vague lapse from ease. Jasper Nettlepoint presently returned to the back drawing-room to serve his companion with our lucent syrup, and he took occasion to remark that it was lovely on the balcony: one really got some air, the breeze being from that quarter. I remembered, as he went away with his tinkling tumbler, that from _my_ hand, a few minutes before, Miss Mavis had not been willing to accept this innocent offering. A little later Mrs. Nettlepoint said: “Well, if it’s so pleasant there we had better go ourselves.” So we passed to the front and in the other room met the two young people coming in from the balcony. I was to wonder, in the light of later things, exactly how long they had occupied together a couple of the set of cane chairs garnishing the place in summer. If it had been but five minutes that only made subsequent events more curious. “We must go, mother,” Miss Mavis immediately said; and a moment after, with a little renewal of chatter as to our general meeting on the ship, the visitors had taken leave. Jasper went down with them to the door and as soon as they had got off Mrs. Nettlepoint quite richly exhaled her impression. “Ah but’ll she be a bore—she’ll be a bore of bores!” “Not through talking too much, surely.” “An affectation of silence is as bad. I hate that particular _pose_; it’s coming up very much now; an imitation of the English, like everything else. A girl who tries to be statuesque at sea—that will act on one’s nerves!” “I don’t know what she tries to be, but she succeeds in being very handsome.” “So much the better for you. I’ll leave her to you, for I shall be shut up. I like her being placed under my ‘care’!” my friend cried. “She’ll be under Jasper’s,” I remarked. “Ah he won’t go,” she wailed—“I want it too much!” “But I didn’t see it that way. I have an idea he’ll go.” “Why didn’t he tell me so then—when he came in?” “He was diverted by that young woman—a beautiful unexpected girl sitting there.” “Diverted from his mother and her fond hope?—his mother trembling for his decision?”