falling into one of her ambushes. She would carry him off to tea,
and he never left without finding himself pledged to return in the
evening. In his loneliness, hopelessness, and desolation he found
it dangerously sweet to be thus petted and sought after. Cassie
made no demands of him and acquiesced with apparent cheerfulness
in the implication that he loved another woman. She humbly
accepted the little that was left over, and, though she wept many
hot tears in secret, outwardly at least she never rebelled or
reproached him. She knew that to do either would be to lose him.
In fact she made it very easy for him to come, and gave up her
girlish treasure of affection without any hope of reward. Frank,
by degrees, discovered a wonderful comfort in being with her. It
was balm to his wounds and bruises; and, like someone who had long
been out in the cold, he warmed himself, so to speak, before that
bright fire, and found himself growing drowsy and contented.

It must not be supposed that all this went on unremarked, or that
in the gossip of the yacht Frank and Cassie Derwent did not come
in for a considerable share of attention. It passed from the
officers' mess to the saloon, and Florence bit her lip with anger
and jealousy when the joke went round of the chief engineer's
"infatuation." In revenge she treated Frank more coldly than ever,
and went out of her way to be agreeable to de Souvary, especially
when the former was at hand and could be made a spectator of her
lover-like glances and a warmth that seemed to transcend the
limits of ordinary friendship. She made herself utterly unhappy
and Frank as well. The only one of the trio to be pleased was the
count.

She made no objection when Frank asked her permission to show the