"I fear there will be a good many empty saddles in the saloon at dinner." The lady smiled weakly.

It was a feeble joke at the best.

"You think we are in for a sort of marine steeple-chase ?" she asked.
"Well, thank Heaven, I had a good lunch," sniggered a rosy-faced subaltern, and a ripple of laughter greeted his enthusiasm.
Iris stood somewhat apart from the speakers.

The wind had freshened and her hat was tied closely over her ears.

She leaned against the taffrail, enjoying the cool breeze after hours of sultry heat.