ee from suspicion--she did not want him to be, because it enhanced
her value; but he was dominated by her cajolery.

When they arrived in Richmond, and had climbed the hill, and had looked
down from the Terrace Gardens upon that lovely piece of the Thames which
is to be seen from the height, Sally and Toby walked arm in arm about
the Deer Park. They saw the leaves falling, quite yellow, although the
trees were still dense with foliage; and the crisp air exhilarated them.
In the sun it was hot and dazzlingly bright.

"Tell me about what you've seen, Toby," suddenly asked Sally.

"Seen?" Toby fumbled a minute in his mind. "What d'you mean--seen?"

"At sea, and when you go ashore. _You_ know. Ships and places."

Toby looked puzzled. "Well, what's there to tell?" he questioned. "A
ship's a ship. You wouldn't understand if I was to tell you I'd seen a
schooner, or a barque, or a cattle-boat, or a dinghy." He was rather
lofty. "I mean, you wouldn't _know_."

"How do _you_ know, then? How can _you_ tell the difference?" she
persisted.

Toby laughed at the fact that she had not recognised how he had slipped
in the dinghy among recognisable ships. He had supposed everybody knew
what a dinghy was. He pointed that fact out to Sally, who could not see
that she had betrayed such glaring foolishness. Pressed to confine
himself to comparable vessels, Toby condescendingly resumed:

"It's a question of the size, and the rig.... All that." He was
elaborately the expert, sure that an amateur could never understand.
Sally might have retorted with baffling words about seams and camisoles
and voile; but she was shrewd in mystic silence. "You'd have to see the
ships.... Then I could point it all out to you. I mean, a gunboat or a
cruiser or a trawler.... What I mean, they're _different_. See a big
liner going out from Liverpool: I tell you, it's a sight. Flocks of
people, and the old thing moving along like grease. Leaves you standing.
At first you don't half feel a fool. But on a boat like ours there's no
time to look about. We're under-manned. That's what it is. Not enough of
us to make it light for everybody. Ought to be altered. Got to be doing
chores the whole time. Swabbing down, cooking----"

"Can _you_ cook?" Sally was swift, arch, incredulous.

Toby grinned. Then he remembered her classes--her "cooking" classes--and
his aunt's message, and grew suddenly serious.

"Look here, Sally. That cooking. I don't like them other fel