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I felt the colour rising hotly to my face, but I endeavoured to appear unconcerned. "You look," said Dr. Brayle, with a quick glance from his narrowly set eyes "as if you had been through a happy experience." "Perhaps I have!" I answered quietly "It has certainly been a very happy day!" "What is your opinion of Santoris?" asked Mr.
"You talk like a poet," she said "And of all things in the world I hate poetry! There! don't think me cross! Go along and be happy in your own strange fanciful way! I cannot be other than I am, Dr. Brayle will tell you that I'm not strong enough to share in other people's lives and aims and pleasures, I must always consider myself." "Dr. Brayle tells you that?" I queried "To consider yourself?"
Brayle, I slipped away and went up on deck, feeling myself quite overpowered and bewildered by the suddenness and strangeness of the episodes in which I had become involved. In a minute or two Mr. Harland followed me, looking troubled and perplexed. "What does all this mean?" he said "I am quite at a loss to understand Catherine's condition. She is hysterical, of course, but what has caused it?
These diamonds and rubies, these emeralds and sapphires, have not the full lustre of their own true nature, they are in the condition of pining flowers. It will take centuries before they resume their natural brilliancy. There is some tragedy hidden among them." Dr. Brayle looked amused.
Harland, with all your experience of the world, has it never occurred to you that there are some people whose opinions don't matter?" "Brayle is a clever man," he said, somewhat testily, "And you are merely an imaginative woman." "Then why do you trouble about me?" I asked him, quickly "Why do you want to find out that something in me which baffles both Dr. Brayle and yourself?"
In a very few minutes we were alongside the 'Dream' and soon on board, where Rafel Santoris received us with kindly courtesy and warmth of welcome. He expressed polite regret at the absence of Miss Harland none for that of Dr. Brayle or Mr. Swinton and then introduced us to his captain, an Italian named Marino Fazio, of whom Santoris said to us, smilingly:
Harland, with a sudden ugly irritation of manner that sometimes disfigured him "Your thoughts are not of the least importance!" Dr. Brayle flushed angrily and Catherine looked surprised and visibly indignant. "Father! How can you be so rude!" "Am I rude?" And Mr. Harland shrugged his shoulders indifferently "Well!
He was a clock-work model of punctuality and dispatch, of respectfulness and obedience, but he was no more than a machine, he could not be moved to a spontaneous utterance or a spontaneous smile, unless both smile and utterance were the result of some pleasantness affecting himself. Neither Dr. Brayle nor Mr.
"She won't be able to go with us to visit Santoris," he said "I'm sure of that." "Shall we put it off?" I suggested. His eyebrows went up in surprise at me. "Why no, certainly not. It will be a change for you and a pleasure of which I would not deprive you. Besides, I want to go myself. But Catherine " Dr. Brayle here entered the saloon with his softest step and most professional manner.
Harland answered "And perhaps he may make others young too. There's no telling the extent of his powers!" "Quite the conjurer!" observed Dr. Brayle, drily "Faust should have consulted him instead of Mephistopheles!" "'Faust' is a wonderful legend, but absurd in the fact that the old philosopher sold his soul to the Devil, merely for the love of woman," said Mr. Harland.
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