descent to the deck. She jumped down. She was
aboard the yacht; and as she glanced around Keith was upon the deck
beside her, catching her arm. Jenny's triumphant complacency was so
great that she gave a tiny nervous laugh. She had not spoken at all
until this moment: Keith had not heard her voice.

"Well!" said Jenny. "_That's_ over!" And she gave an audible sigh of
relief. "Thank goodness!"

"And here you are!" Keith cried. "Aboard the _Minerva_."

iv

He led her to a door, and down three steps. And then it seemed to Jenny
as if Paradise burst upon her. She had never before seen such a room as
this cabin. It was a room such as she had dreamed about in those
ambitious imaginings of a wondrous future which had always been so
vaguely irritating to Emmy. It seemed, partly because the ceiling was
low, to be very spacious; the walls and ceiling were of a kind of dusky
amber hue; a golden brown was everywhere the prevailing tint. The tiny
curtains, the long settees into which one sank, the chairs, the shades
of the mellow lights--all were of some variety of this delicate golden
brown. In the middle of the cabin stood a square table; and on the
table, arrayed in an exquisitely white tablecloth, was laid a wondrous
meal. The table was laid for two: candles with amber shades made silver
shine and glasses glitter. Upon a fruit stand were peaches and
nectarines; upon a tray she saw decanters; little dishes crowding the
table bore mysterious things to eat such as Jenny had never before seen.
Upon a side table stood other dishes, a tray bearing coffee cups and
ingredients for the provision of coffee, curious silver boxes.
Everywhere she saw flowers similar to those which had been in the motor
car. Under her feet was a carpet so thick that she felt her shoes must
be hidden in its pile. And over all was this air of quiet expectancy
which suggested that everything awaited her coming. Jenny gave a deep
sigh, glanced quickly at Keith, who was watching her, and turned away,
her breath catching. The contrast was too great: it made her unhappy.
She looked down at her skirt, at her hands; she thought of her hat and
her hidden shoes. She thought of Emmy, the bread and butter pudding, of
Alf Rylett ... of Pa lying at home in bed, alone in the house.

v

Keith drew her forward slightly, until she came within the soft radiance
of the cabin lights.

"I say, it _is_ sporting of you to come!" he said. "Let's have a look at
you--do!"