he boat toward the town that shimmered
in the distance. The water hissed at the bow, and seethed and sparkled
from the stern; the land breeze that bent their sail blew cool upon her
cheek and freshened it with a tinge of color.

"This will do you good," he said, looking into hers with his kind, gay
eyes.

The color in her cheeks deepened a little. "Oh, I am better than I look.
I did n't come for"--

"For medicinal purposes. Well, I am glad of it. We've a good hour
between us and news or no news from Maynard, and I should like to think
we were out for pleasure. You don't object?"

"No. You can even smoke, if that will heighten the illusion."

"It will make it reality. But you don't mean it?"

"Yes; why not?"

"I don't know. But I could n't have dreamt of smoking in your presence.
And we take the liberty to dream very strange things."

"Yes," she said, "it's shocking what things we do dream of people. But
am I so forbidding?" she asked, a little sadly.

"Not now," said Libby. He got out a pouch of tobacco and some cigarette
papers, and putting the tiller under his arm, he made himself a
cigarette.

"You seem interested," he said, as he lifted his eyes from his work, on
which he found her intent, and struck his fusee.

"I was admiring your skill," she answered.

"Do you think it was worth a voyage to South America?"

"I shouldn't have thought the voyage was necessary."

"Oh, perhaps you think you can do it," he said, handing her the tobacco
and papers. She took them and made a cigarette. "It took me a whole
day to learn to make bad ones, and this, is beautiful. But I will never
smoke it. I will keep this always."

"You had better smoke it, if you want more," she said.

"Will you make some more? I can't smoke the first one!"

"Then smoke the last," she said, offering him the things back.

"No, go on. I'll smoke it."

She lent herself to the idle humor of the time, and went on making
cigarettes till there were no more papers. From time to time she looked
up from this labor, and scanned the beautiful bay, which they had almost
wholly to themselves. They passed a collier lagging in the deep channel,
and signalling for a pilot to take her up to the town. A yacht, trim and
swift, cut across their course; the ladies on board waved a salutation
with their handkerchiefs, and Libby responded.

"Do you know them?" asked Grace.

"No!" he laughed. "But ladies like to take these liberties at a safe
distance."