quarter as large." She eagerly
turned his attention up the river. Visible only by the lights of her
cabin and the sparks from her unseen chimneys, a boat was coming round
the next bend. As she entered the reach and breasted the breeze which so
calmly accompanied the _Votaress_, her two spangled plumes of smoke
swept straight astern as if two comets raced with her, or----

"The Golden Locks of Berenice," whispered Ramsey.

"Come," Hugh softly responded. The _Votaress_ had signalled the usual
passage to starboard and unless they went forward the shining spectacle
would at once be lost. As they gained the front of the texas the distant
craft, happening to open a fire-door, cast a long fan of red light ahead
of her, suddenly showing every detail of her white forecastle,
illumining her pathway on the yellow waters and revealing in their
daylight green the willows of an island close beyond. Then the furnace
was shut and again her fair outlines were left to the imagination,
except for the prismatic twinkle and glow of her cabin lights.

"That was like you when you laugh," murmured Hugh, and before she could
parry she was smitten again by an innocent random shot from the darkness
round the bell.

"Do you make her out, Mr. Watson?" asked Hugh's father, and she flinched
as if Watson were peering down on her.

"Yes, sir," said the pilot, "she's Hayle's _Wild Girl_."

Not waiting to hear that she was known by her "front skylights standin'
so fur aft of her chimbleys," Ramsey wheeled to fly. But instantly she
recovered and went with severe decorum, saying quiet nothings to Hugh as
he followed, until at the sick-room door again she turned.

"I'm willing he should help us, Mr. Hugh, if mom-a and Basile are. I'll
send him word by mammy Joy. Mr. Hugh--what is it he wants to know about
the twins?"

Hugh was taken aback. "Why, it's nothing--now. It was as pure nonsense
as those verses. Ask him. He can tell if he chooses; I can't." There was
a pause. Her eyes gave him lively attention, but one ear was bent to the
door.

"I hope Basile is better," he added.

"I'm sure he is; he's so much quieter." She felt a stir of conscience,
loitering thus, yet--"Mr. Hugh, do you think diffidence is the same as
modesty?"

"Certainly not."

"I'm--" She meditated.... "I'm glad of that.... I never was diffident a
moment in my life."

"You never had need to be," said Hugh very quietly.

"They go together, don't they, diffidence and modesty