d no heart, that love
or no love was a question of very little moment, and that the personal
qualities of the man whom she chose for a husband mattered nothing to
her, provided that his lands and houses and social status came up to her
standard of merit. She had seen Mr. Smithson's houses and lands; and she
was distinctly assured that he would in due course be raised to the
peerage. She had, therefore, every reason to be satisfied.

Having thus reasoned out the circumstances of her new life, she accepted
her fate with a languid grace, which harmonised with her delicate and
patrician beauty. Nobody could have for a moment supposed from her
manner that she loved Horace Smithson; but nobody had the right to
think that she detested him. She accepted all his attentions as a thing
of course. The flowers which he strewed beneath her footsteps, the
pearls which he melted in her wine--metaphorically speaking--were just
'good enough' and no more. This afternoon, when Mr. Smithson asked her
how she liked the arrangements of the saloon and cabin, she said she
thought they would do very nicely. 'They would do.' Nothing more.

'It is dreadfully small, of course,' she said, 'when one is accustomed
to rooms: but it is rather amusing to be in a sort of doll's house, and
on deck it is really very nice.'

This was the most Mr. Smithson had for his pains, and he seemed to be
content therewith. If a man will marry the prettiest girl of the year he
must be satisfied with such scant civility as conscious perfection may
give him. We know that Aphrodite was not altogether the most comfortable
wife, and that Helen was a cause of trouble.

Mr. Smithson sat in a bamboo chair beside his mistress, and looked
ineffably happy when she handed him a cup of tea. Sky and sea were one
exquisite azure--the colours of the boats glancing in the sunshine as if
they had been jewels; here an emerald rudder, there a gunwale painted
with liquid rubies. White sails, white frocks, white ducks made vivid
patches of light against the blue. The landscape yonder shone and
sparkled as if it had been incandescent. All the world of land and sky
and sea was steeped in sunshine. A day on which to do nothing, read
nothing, think nothing, only to exist.

While they sat basking in the balmy atmosphere, looking lazily at that
bright, almost insupportable picture of blue sea under blue sky, there
came the dip of oars, making music, and a sound of coolness with every
plash of