tes."

The promise of a long, wet, blank day was not very cheering. In fact,
this change in the weather was as damping to my spirits as it literally
was to everything else, and as I entered the companion way for shelter,
I felt as though half of a mind to order the yacht to be headed for
some adjacent port. But a little thinking brought back my resolution
to its old bearings. It is a hard thing to avow, but I knew that my
very strongest chance of gaining Lady Amelia's consent lay in this sea
trip. Then again, there might come a break at any moment, with a fine
day of warm sunshine and clear sky to follow. I re-entered the cabin,
and on looking at the barometer observed a slight depression in the
mercury, but it was without significance to my mind.

Somewhere about this time Grace came out of her berth. She brought an
atmosphere of flower-like fragrance with her, but the motions of the
yacht obliged her to sit quickly, and she gazed at me with laughter in
her eyes from the locker, graceful in her posture as a reposing dancer.
Her face lengthened, however, when I told her about the weather, that
in short there was nothing visible from the deck but a muddy, jumbled
atmosphere of vapour and drizzle.

"I counted upon seeing the Isle of Wight," cried she; "there has been
no land so far except those far-off high cliffs yesterday afternoon."

"No matter, my sweet. Let us take as long as possible in breakfasting.
Then you shall read Tennyson to me--yes, I have a volume of that poet,
and we shall find some of the verses in wonderful harmony with our
mood." She gave me a smiling glance, though her lip pouted as though
she would say, "Don't make too sure of my mood, my fine young fellow."
"By the time we have done with Tennyson," I continued, "the weather may
have cleared. If not, then we must take as long as possible in dining."

"Isn't it dangerous to be at sea in such weather as this?" she asked.

"No," said I.

"But the sailors can't see."

I feared the drift of her language and exclaimed, "It would be
dangerous to attempt to make the land, for we might blunder upon a rock
and go to pieces, Grace; and then farewell, a long farewell to the
passions, emotions, the impulses, the sensations which have brought us
together here," and I kissed her hand.

"But it would be pleasant to lie in a pretty harbour--to rest as it
were," she exclaimed.

"Our business is to get married, my darling," I rejoined; "and we must