Part 29 (2/2)
That was the commencement of an even closer intercourse; the drawings drew them together. The sketches had to be thought out and considered.
On smooth days were worked at with pencil on paper.
d.i.c.k's was really a skilled hand. And that hand of his--he took immense pride in the fact--was steady now. The ability is not given to every artist to do line work on a boat. The throbbing from the engine room usually permeates every part of the vessel.
So the two men would sit on deck, one writing and the other drawing.
Sometimes the author's pen would suddenly cease work; cease for quite a while. d.i.c.k respected those pauses; imagined Charleigh to be thinking out the details of his work.
He was wrong. Masters was thinking of Miss Mivvins. Remorseful thoughts; remorse that he had ever wounded that generous, sweet soul; ever added by his harsh words to her burden of sorrow. Vainly regretful thoughts: regret that he had not met her earlier in life. A sigh usually marked Masters' emergence from dreamland. If he did not directly pick up his work again, his companion would open up conversation; one day said:
”I call you Prince, old fellow, because you told me to. Is it a nickname or your real name?”
Masters smiled; the sweet innocence of his G.o.dmother occurred to him; he said:
”Which do you think, now?”
”Well, I can't help thinking that Prince Charleigh seems too happy a combination to be the real thing. Real G.o.dmothers and G.o.dfathers don't hit on those things usually.”
”Mine did not. Yet all the same I was christened, quite recently, Prince.”
”Ah!” d.i.c.k's eyes sparkled; he fancied himself a discoverer. ”I'll bet you a new hat I can guess the s.e.x of the christener--a girl?”
”Splendid marksman! A bull's eye! Hit the centre of the target first time!”
A merry twinkle found place in the younger man's eyes as he inquired:
”Engaged to her, old fellow?”
”Well----”
Masters paused. Then, with a quiet smile and a long puff at his pipe, completed his sentence:
”We have spoken of marriage.”
”Soon?”
”M'no. She's very young.”
The quiet smile broadened on Masters' face; he remembered how very young!
”I have been writing this morning to my girl,” said d.i.c.k. ”We shall touch port today for stores, and be able to post letters, the Captain says.”
”So I gathered.”
”Did your ears burn this morning, old chap? My letter was full of you.”
”Was it?”
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