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Updated: May 26, 2025
With his sister? No, indeed; that would have been unnatural. Who was Grace's natural companion? Henry Veath or any one of a dozen attractive young officers. How could it have been otherwise? She was popular and in constant demand. There were not many young women aboard and certainly but two or three attractive ones. From morning till far in the night she was besieged by men always men.
This feeble impulse forced him forward, his arms extended. "Don't be afraid, dear. I am not a ghost!" Veath dropped into a chair near the window, and closed his eyes, his ears, his heart. "Oh, Hugh, Hugh," the girl moaned, putting her hands over her face, even as he clasped her awkwardly, half-heartedly in his arms. He was saying distressedly to himself: "She loves me! I cannot break her heart!"
"This can't go on any longer, or I'll go back," vowed Hugh as he glared with gloomy eyes at the innocent path of silver. "Your brother is not very sociable of late, is he, Miss Ridge?" asked Veath, as they turned once more up the deck toward the disconsolate relative. "There are a great many pretty young women on board, but he seems to ignore them completely.
She could not tell Hugh of her discovery, for she knew that he would be unreasonable, perhaps do or say something which would make the wound more painful. During the days that followed Veath was as pleasant, as genial, as gallant as before; none but Grace observed the faint change in his manner.
The astounded lover was some time in recovering from the surprise inspired by her unexpected act. It was the first time she had ever been sisterly in that fashion before the eyes of others. "I hope I have said nothing to offend them," said Veath miserably. "Was I too abrupt?" "Not in the least.
Veath, with mock solemnity. "She may be as much at sea as he," she said, and very truthfully. "Well, if love dies, there is a consolation in knowing that the sea casts up its dead," was his sage, though ill-timed remark. Grace slept but little that night, and went early to breakfast in the hope that she might see Hugh alone.
She knew instinctively what it was that Veath wanted to say to Hugh. Then she did something she had never done before in the presence of another. She walked quickly to Hugh's side, bent over and kissed his lips, almost as he gasped in astonishment. "Good-night, dear," she said, quite audibly, and was gone with Lady Huntingford.
Miss Vernon demurely smiled to herself, and finally kicked Hugh's foot. He laughed aloud suddenly and insanely and then choked. Veath grew very red in the face, perhaps through restraint. The conversation from that moment was strained until the close of the meal, and they did not meet at all during dinner. "Perhaps we have offended him," said Grace as they strolled along the deck that evening.
"Because Veath isn't one that's all." "But you are a man a true, noble, enduring one. The year just gone has changed you from the easy, thoughtless boy into the strong man that you are, just as it has made of me a woman." "I am no longer the harlequin?" he interposed eagerly. "The harlequin's errand is accomplished, dear. The spangles and glitter are gone. Pure gold has come in their stead.
"You know how hopeless it is for me," went on Veath, "and I hope you will remember that I have been honest and plain with you. Before we part in Manila I may tell her, but that is all. I believe I should like to have her know that I love her. She can't think badly of me for it, I'm sure." Hugh did not answer. He arose and silently grasped the hand of the other, who also had conic to his feet.
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