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Updated: June 16, 2025
There was no letter; but the morning papers, still unread, lay at hand, and glancing listlessly down the column which chronicles the doings of society, she read: "After an extended cruise in the AEgean and the Black Sea on their steam-yacht Ibis, Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Hicks and their daughter are established at the Nouveau Luxe in Rome.
"It is almost midnight?" she asked. "It is after twelve ten minutes. The morning of the great day has come." And the old banker looked into the eyes of the young Beauty, and almost smiled in response to her low, derisive laugh. "He came to-day, then?" she asked. "Yesterday," corrected Mr. Bugbee; "at noon, he landed from my steam-yacht, in the very heart of London.
I was dressed in the full uniform of the steam-yacht, with a white canvas cap. He had seen me in this rig enough to know it, and my chances of passing him without being seen were very small. But I was not afraid of him, and I was rather ashamed of the idea of dodging him.
"She is not; she is a yacht, with a pleasure party on board who are making a voyage around the world." "Ah, yes, Captain; I understand. There is another steam-yacht in the roads, over beyond the P. & O. steamer nearest to you. Perhaps you have seen her; she is painted white all over." "I did not notice her. What flag does she carry?" "She sails under the British flag.
The ball was to be given at mid-Lent, which arrived toward the end of March, and negotiations were well under way for the chartering of the "Flitter," the steam-yacht belonging to Reginald Brown, late of Brown & Brown. The letter made Brewster chafe under the bonds of inaction. His affairs were getting into a discouraging state.
Johns River as a passenger boat, and that he felt sure of obtaining possession of her, because, he asserted, he was the rightful owner of her. The paper he had signed was destroyed with the rest of my valuables. As the steam-yacht approached the coast of Florida I did not even think of my ancient enemy. I had left him in Jacksonville, where he was drinking all he could carry, every day.
"On the 20th of December, 1854, a steam-yacht, belonging to a Scotch nobleman, Lord Glenarvan, anchored off Cape Bernouilli, on the western coast of Australia, in the thirty-seventh parallel. On board this yacht were Lord Glenarvan and his wife, a major in the English army, a French geographer, a young girl, and a young boy.
"With the greatest pleasure," replied Lord Tremlyn; and the other two bowed their acquiescence. "This, gentlemen, is Mr. Belgrave, the owner of the Guardian-Mother, the steam-yacht in which he is making a voyage round the world." "I am extremely pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Belgrave," added Lord Tremlyn, as he took the hand of the young millionaire.
It was all very new and interesting to him the shore with its spectral palms and giant caravansary, the misty, opalescent sea where a white steam-yacht lay anchored north of him the Ariani from which he had come, and on board of which the others were still doubtless asleep Portlaw, Malcourt, and Wayward.
I venture, yet again, to give from a note-book of last year a few lines as to a sunset. I was on a steam-yacht awaiting the yachts which were racing for the Newport cup.
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