see the yacht from my point of observation, but I could hear the
music she had on board, and that was enough for immediate delight.

Leaving the port-hole open, I lay down on the sofa immediately
beneath it and comprised myself to listen. The soft breath of the
sea blew on my cheeks, and with every breath the delicate vibrations
of appealing harmony rose and fell--it was as if these enchanting
sounds were being played or sung for me alone. In a delicious
languor I drowsed, as it were, with my eyes open,--losing myself in
a labyrinth of happy dreams and fancies which came to me unbidden,--
till presently the music died softly away like a retreating wave and
ceased altogether. I waited a few minutes--listening breathlessly
lest it should begin again and I lose some note of it,--then hearing
no more, I softly closed the port-hole and drew the curtain. I did
this with an odd reluctance, feeling somehow that I had shut out a
friend; and I half apologised to this vague sentiment by reminding
myself of the lateness of the hour. It was nearly midnight. I had
intended writing to Francesca,--but I was now disinclined for
anything but rest. The music which had so entranced me throbbed
still in my ears and made my heart beat with a quick sense of joy,-
children--there may be several inoffensive reasons for his lighting
up, and he may think no more of advertisement than you or I."

"That's true,"--assented Dr. Brayle, with a quick concession to his
patron's humour. "But people nowadays do so many queer things for
mere notoriety's sake that it is barely possible to avoid suspecting
them. They will even kill themselves in order to be talked about."

"Fortunately they don't hear what's said of them,"--returned Mr.
Harland--"or they might alter their minds and remain alive. It's