Through all that day he sat at the desk, and when the night-time came again, he walked out of the house, and across the field, and over the tiny foot-bridge, under the willow tree with the still beckoning arms; and the world, his world, the world he had meant to make his own, never saw him again.
Gail stood at the rail of the _Whitecap_, gazing out over the dancing blue waves with troubled eyes.
“Penny,” said a cheerful voice at her side.
“For my thoughts,” she replied, turning to the impossibly handsome Dick Rodley who had strolled up, in his blue jacket and white trousers and other nautical embellishments. “Give me your penny.”
He reached in his pockets, but of course, there was no money there. He did, however, find a fountain pen and a card, and he wrote her a note for the amount.
“Now deliver the merchandise,” he demanded.
“Well, to begin with, I’m glad that the fog has been driven away, and that the sun is shining, and that so many of my friends are on board the _Whitecap_.”
“You’re not a conscientious merchant,” objected Dick. “You’re not giving me all I paid for. No one stands still so long, no matter how charming of figure or becomingly gowned, without a serious thought. I want that thought.”
Gail looked up into his big black eyes reflectively. She was tremendously glad that she had such a friend as Dick. He was so agreeable to look at, and he was no problem to her. The most of her friends were.
“The news in the paper,” she told him. “It’s so big.”
Dick looked down at her critically. Her snow-white yachting costume, with its touches of delicate blue, seemed to make her a part of the blue sea and the blue sky, with their markings of white in foam and cloud, to enhance the delicate pallor of her cheeks, to throw into her brown eyes a trace of violet, to bring into relief, the rich colour of the brown hair which rippled about her face, straying where it could into wanton little ringlets, sometimes gold and sometimes almost red in the sun. She was so new a Gail to Dick that he was puzzled, and worried, too, for he felt, rather than saw, that some trouble possessed this dearest of his friends.
“Yes, it is big news,” he admitted; “big enough and startling enough to impress any one very gravely.” Then he shook his head at her. “But you mustn’t worry about it, Gail. You’re not responsible.”