“It was,” Mrs Wyllys steadily continued—­she having, very evidently, such other matter in her thoughts as to be a little inattentive to the sensitive feelings of her companion;—­“and yet he did not appear to me like one of those empty minds that find a pleasure in exposing the follies of others.  You may remember, Gertrude, that yesterday, while at the ruin, Mrs de Lacey made some remarks expressive of her admiration of a ship under sail.”

“Yes, yes, I remember them,” said the niece, a little impatiently.

“One of her terms was particularly incorrect, as I happened to know from my own familiarity with the language of sailors.”

“I thought as much, by the expression of your eye,” returned Gertrude; “but”—­

“Listen, my love.  It certainly was not remarkable that a lady should make a trifling error in the use of so peculiar a language, but it is singular that a seaman himself should commit the same fault in precisely the same words.  This did the youth of whom we are speaking; and, what is no less surprising the old man assented to the same, just as if they had been correctly uttered.”

“Perhaps,” said Gertrude, in a low tone, “they may have heard, that attachment to this description of conversation is a foible of Mrs de Lacey.  I am sure, after this, dear Madam, you cannot any longer consider the stranger a gentleman!”

“I should think no more about it, love, were it not for a feeling I can neither account for nor define.  I would I could again see him!”

A slight exclamation from her companion interrupted her words; and, the next instant, the subject of her thoughts leaped the wall, apparently in quest of the rattan that had fallen at the feet of Gertrude, and occasioned her alarm.  After apologizing for his intrusion on the private grounds of Mrs de Lacey, and recovering his lost property, Wilder was slowly preparing to retire, as if nothing had happened.  There was a softness and delicacy in his manner during the first moment of his appearance, which was probably intended to convince the younger of the ladies that he was not entirely without some claims to the title she had so recently denied him, and which was certainly not without its effect.  The countenance of Mrs Wyllys was pale, and her lip quivered, though the steadiness of her voice proved it was not with alarm, as she hastily said,—­“Remain a moment, sir, if need does not require your presence elsewhere.  There is something so remarkable in this meeting, that I could wish to improve it.”

Wilder bowed, and again faced the ladies, whom he had just been about to quit, like one who felt he had no right to intrude a moment longer than had been necessary to recover that which had been lost by his pretended awkwardness.  When Mrs Wyllys found that her wish was so unexpectedly realized, she hesitated as to the manner in which she should next proceed.

“I have been thus bold, sir,” she said, in some embarrassment, “on account of the opinion you so lately expressed concerning the vessel which now lies ready to put to sea, the instant, she is favoured with a wind.”