The young men grouped themselves together at the prow of the vessel in order to smoke their cigars without annoyance to Thelma.

Old Gueldmar did not smoke, but he talked,--and Errington after seeing them all fairly absorbed in an argument on the best methods of spearing salmon, moved quietly away to where the girl was sitting, her great pensive eyes fixed on the burning splendors of the heavens.
"Are you warm enough there ?" he asked, and there was an unconscious tenderness in his voice as he asked the question, "or shall I fetch you a wrap ?" She smiled.

"I have my hood," she said.

"It is the warmest thing I ever wear, except, of course, in winter." Philip looked at the hood as she drew it more closely over her head, and thought that surely no more becoming article of apparel ever was designed for woman's wear.

He had never seen anything like it either in color or texture,--it was of a peculiarly warm, rich crimson, like the heart of a red damask rose, and it suited the bright hair and tender, thoughtful eyes of its owner to perfection.
"Tell me," he said, drawing a little nearer and speaking in a lower tone, "have you forgiven me for my rudeness the first time I saw you ?" She looked a little troubled.
"Perhaps also I was rude," she said gently.