I explained how it had been given to me.

"Why, then, you've already established a connection with the strange
yacht!" he said, laughing--"The owner, according to your Highland
fellow, has the same blossoms on board,--probably gathered from the
same morass!--surely this is quite romantic and exciting!"

And at breakfast, when Dr. Brayle and Mr. Swinton appeared, they all
made conversation on the subject of my bunch of heather, till I got
rather tired of it, and was half inclined to take it off and throw
it away. Yet somehow I could not do this. Glancing at my own
reflection in a mirror, I saw what a brilliant yet dainty touch of
colour it gave to the plain white serge of my yachting dress,--it
was a pretty contrast, and I left it alone.

Miss Catherine did not get up to breakfast, but she sent for me
afterwards and asked if I would mind sitting with her for a while. I
did mind in a way,--for the day was fair and fine,--the 'Diana' was
preparing to pursue her course,--and it was far pleasanter to be on
deck in the fresh air than in Miss Catherine's state-room, which,
though quite spacious for a yacht's accommodation, looked rather
dreary, having no carpet on the floor, no curtains to the bed, and
no little graces of adornment anywhere,--nothing but a few shelves
against the wall on which were ranged some blue and black medicine
bottles, relieved by a small array of pill-boxes. But I felt sorry
for the poor woman who had elected to make her life a martyrdom to
nerves, and real or imaginary aches and pains, so I went to her,
determined to do what I could to cheer and rouse her from her
condition of chronic depression. Directly I entered her cabin she