Part 15 (2/2)

Poor Jack--I call him ”Poor Jack” although he has behaved like a very naughty boy--seemed to wince, but made no reply.

Eventually we arrived opposite the village of Hamble, and there the anchor was weighed--if that is the right expression. Jack suggested that the three ladies, including myself, should go ash.o.r.e in the dingey and stay at the hotel. Mrs. Vivian said that she did not want to do this, and Mrs. Tenterden positively refused.

”Do you think that I am going to risk my life that jim-crack boat?” she asked. ”I am not quite an imbecile. Though I think I must be after all, otherwise I should not have come on this idiotic cruise.”

Jack again made no reply, but there was something in his face that told me that he was becoming disillusioned.

Shortly after that he sent the skipper and a boy ash.o.r.e, who returned with some marvellous looking lobsters and a huge crab. It seems that this place is famous for its sh.e.l.l-fish, and I can only say that I never tasted anything more delicious than the crab in question.

Mrs. Vivian managed to eat a little dinner, but Mrs. Tenterden retired to her cabin and contented herself with some soup.

I for my part, ate a most capital dinner, and I fancied that Jack seemed sorry for the way he has been treating me lately; treatment which I should never have put up with, except from a man whom I love so devotedly--a man whom I meant to rescue (selfishly, I admit) from that siren's clutches. In all I have done I have been guided by your advice, and therefore to you remains all the credit, coupled with the life-long devotion of your little friend.

Well, we slept on board the yacht, and the morning brought its revelations.

Mrs. Tenterden was not present at breakfast, and came on deck very late. And only imagine, my dear, how she had changed. That beautiful pink complexion that I had admired so much, and even envied, had disappeared altogether. Her face was of a greyish hue, and possessed no shade of pink. Those beautiful pencilled eyebrows seemed to have strangely altered, and to have unaccountably thinned down. The charming woman-of-the-world manner had entirely disappeared, and, later on, when we descended to the cabin, at luncheon time, Mrs. Tenterden cast furtive and certainly not rea.s.suring glances at the little mirror hanging there.

I confess that at first I was a wee bit sorry for her, but after all, this Nemesis was thoroughly deserved, and when I saw the impression that the metamorphosis had made on Jack--the darling goose can't conceal his feelings--I must own to having been overjoyed.

”The Enchantress” left for London the same evening, looking in her war paint quite a different being. But this made no difference, for Jack, I need scarcely say, had evidently altered his mind.

Since her departure, everything has gone back to its old state. Jack, poor fickle boy, is devotion itself, and I have not thought proper to resist his entreaties to consent to an immediate marriage. You will not blame me, darling, will you?

Ever your affectionate and Happy friend, ROSE.

SONGS.

AFTER VICTOR HUGO, ARMAND SILVESTRE, CHARLES ROUSSEAU AND THE VICOMTE DE BORELLI.

DARLING ARISE.

(AFTER VICTOR HUGO.)

Pretty one, tho' the morning is breaking Thy lattice is fasten'd close How is it that thou art not waking When awake is the rose?

Darling, arise! for I am he Thy lover who sighs and sings to thee, Thy lover who sighs and sings to thee.

Nature loud at thy lattice is beating: I am Day says the morning above I am music the bird sings repeating, And my heart cries ”I am Love.”

Darling, arise! for I am he, Thy lover who sighs and sings to thee, Thy lover who sighs and sings to thee.

ROSE.

(VIELLE CHANSON DU JEUNE TEMPS.)

(AFTER VICTOR HUGO.)

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