she studied the table of the steamboats. She regretted bitterly that she
had not written the first day at Ryde; then pleaded her own excuse
because letters were a rarity for her to write, and had hitherto
required a formal permission.

Mrs. Betts lingered with her long and patiently upon the pier, but the
Gardiners did not come down again, and by and by Mrs. Betts, feeling the
approach of dinner-time, began to look out towards the yacht. After a
minute's steady observation she said, half to herself, but seriously, "I
do believe they are making ready to sail. There is a boat alongside with
bread and things."

"To sail! To leave Ryde! Oh, don't you think my uncle would wait a day
if I begged him?" cried Bessie in acute dismay.

"No, miss--not if he has given orders and the wind keeps fair. If I was
in your place, miss, I should not ask him. And as for the telegram, I
should not name it. It would put Mr. Frederick out, and do no good."

Bessie did not name it. Mrs. Betts's speculation proved correct. The
yacht sailed away in the afternoon. About the time when Mrs. Carnegie
was hurriedly dressing to drive with her husband to Hampton over-night,
to ensure not missing the mail-boat to Ryde in the morning, that gay and
pleasant town was fast receding from Bessie's view. At dawn the island
was out of sight, and when Mr. Carnegie, landing on the pier, sought a
boat to carry him and his wife to the Foam, a boatman looked up at him
and said, "The Foam, sir? You'll have much ado to overtake her. She's
halfway to Hastings by this time. She sailed yesterday soon after five
o'clock."