cessary to leave Madeira?"

"I don't know."

He again rose and leant over the verandah rail.

"It is going to be a wild night," he said, presently.

"Yes; the wind will spoil all the magnolias. Pick me that bud; it is
too good to be wasted."

He obeyed, and, just as he stepped back on to the verandah, a fierce
rush of wind came up from the sea, and went howling away behind them.

"I love a storm," she murmured, as he brought the flower to her. "It
makes me feel so strong," and she stretched out her perfect arms as
though to catch the wind.

"What am I to do with this magnolia?"

"Give it to me. I will pin it in my dress--no, do you fasten it for
me."

The chair in which she was lounging was so low that, to do as she bade
him, Arthur was forced to kneel beside her. Kneeling thus, the sweet,
upturned face was but just beneath his own; the breath from the curved
lips played amongst his hair, and again there crept over him that
feeling of fascination, of utter helplessness, that he had once before
resisted. But this time he did not attempt to resist, and no vision
came to save him. Slowly drawn by the beauty of her tender eyes, he
yielded to the spell, and soon her lips were pressed upon his own, and
the white arms had closed around his neck, whilst the crushed magnolia
bloom shed its perfume round them.

Fiercer swept the storm, the lightning flashed, and the gale catching
the crests of the rising waves dashed them in spray to where they sat.

"Dear," he said presently, "you must not stop here, the spray is
wetting you."

"I wish that it would drown me," she answered, almost fiercely, "I
shall never be so happy again. You think that you love me now; I
should like to die before you learn to hate me. Come, let us go in!"

CHAPTER LXIV

When Mildred received Lady Bellamy's telegram, she was so sure that it
would prove the forerunner of Arthur's arrival at Madeira that she had
at once set about making arrangements for his amusement.

It so happened that there was at the time a very beautiful sea-going
steam yacht of about two hundred and fifty tons burden lying in the
roadstead. She belonged to a nobleman who was suddenly recalled to
England by mail-steamer, and, through a series of chances, Mildred was
enabled to buy her a bargain. The crew of the departed nobleman also
continued in her service.

The morning after the storm broke sweet and clear, and, except that
the flowe