"It is bad enough for them to be refused, without being laughed at into the bargain.... But tell me about the accepting, at least. I have no experience of that. Is it not hard to say yes, and not feel the least bit ashamed of one's self?" "One does not remember one's own part in the tragedy so well. One grows bewildered at such a time. I am not sure that one knows exactly what one says or does. But the gentleman seems to understand. That is the main point." "And what did _he_ say then?... I declare, Rose, you are telling me nothing!" "He said scarcely anything. I did not think a man could say so little, to mean so much. It was the way he did it--the way he was so still--the sound of his voice--his touch. He meant it all, Lettie, so deeply. It was in that he was so strong. One seemed to feel it in the air about him. It was overwhelming. And oh, dear, I feel so small and worthless beside the earnestness of that man's love! I feel humbled, I am so little worthy of love like his." "The proof that you are worthy, is his having given it to you.... I declare!" The last exclamation had escaped her involuntarily. Her roving eyes had alighted on the figures of Gilbert Roe and Maida Springer together upon the sands at a distance. Rose lifted her eyes from the ground, which they had sought while she was making her confidences, and turned them in the direction to which Lettice was looking. She saw, and the view communicated a shock, which thrilled through all her frame. Again her colour rose, and her teeth were set, and she grasped the arm of her friend. The pathetic drooping of her eyelids had vanished, and the lights beneath them flashed like living coals. She said nothing, but she quickened her steps--they had turned, some time before, when her mood had changed from fiery to pathetic--and now they were back within the shadow of the hotel, extending itself to the eastward and the south as day declined. Upon the gallery, along beyond the entrance, she saw Joseph Naylor, with his feet on the balusters and his chair tilted back, a newspaper before him and a cigar between his teeth, enjoying the tranquil afternoon. "I shall go in now, Lettice, dear; but do not let me drag you indoors so early. There is something I wanted to mention to Mr Naylor, and there he is, above and disengaged." Lettice strolled away and soon found other company. Rose hurried forward alone, her eyes still flashing and her cheek aflame. There was no one on the gallery but Naylor, no one on the ground below looking up or taking heed; the moment was as private as though they had been again on Fessenden's Island. "I fear I vexed you this morning in the boat," she said, coming upon him unexpectedly where he sat. He looked up from his paper, let it fall, and sprang to his feet, throwing his cigar away. "Impossible, my dearest, even if you were to try. You have made me the very happiest man alive."