could obtain the best view of her, and many were the comments we
heard concerning her size and the beauty of her lines as she rode at
anchor on the sunlit water.

"You'll be in a floating palace,"--said Francesca, as we approached
Rothesay pier, and she bade me an affectionate adieu--"Now take care
of yourself, and don't fly away to the moon on what you call an
etheric vibration! Remember, if you get tired of the Harlands to
come to me at once."

I promised, and we parted. On landing at Rothesay I was almost
immediately approached by a sailor from the 'Diana,' who, spying my
name on my luggage, quickly possessed himself of it and told me the
motor launch was in waiting to take me over to the yacht. I was on
my way across the sparkling bay before the 'Columba' started out
again from the pier, and Francesca, standing on the steamer's deck,
waved to me a smiling farewell as I went. In about ten minutes I was
on board the 'Diana,' shaking hands with Morton Harland and his
daughter Catherine, who, wrapped up in shawls on a deck chair,
looked as though she were guarding herself from the chills of a
rigorous winter rather than basking in the warm sunshine of a summer
morning.

"You look very well!"--she said, in tones of plaintive amiability--
"And so wonderfully bright!"

"It's such a bright day,"--I answered, feeling as if I ought somehow
to apologise for a healthy appearance, "One can't help being happy!"

She sighed and smiled faintly, and her maid appearing at that moment