“Have you done, Natalie? I have something to say on my side if you have.”
“What is it?”
“If things go on as they are going on now, shall I tell you how it will end? It will end in your being Turlington’s wife.”
“Never!”
“So you say now; but you don’t know what may happen between this and Christmas-day. Natalie, there is only one way of making sure that you will never marry Richard. Marry me.”
“Without papa’s consent?”
“Without saying a word to anybody till it’s done.”
“Oh, Launce! Launce!”
“My darling, every word you have said proves there is no other way. Think of it, Natalie, think of it.”
There was a pause. Natalie dropped her needle and thread, and hid her face in her hands. “If my poor mother was only alive,” she said; “if I only had an elder sister to advise me, and to take my part.”
She was evidently hesitating. Launce took a man’s advantage of her indecision. He pressed her without mercy.
“Do you love me?” he whispered, with his lips close to her ear.
“You know I do, dearly.”
“Put it out of Richard’s power to part us, Natalie.”
“Part us? We are cousins: we have known each other since we were both children. Even if he proposed parting us, papa wouldn’t allow it.”
“Mark my words, he will propose it. As for your father, Richard has only to lift his finger and your father obeys him. My love, the happiness of both our lives is at stake.” He wound his arm round her, and gently drew her head back on his bosom, “Other girls have done it, darling,” he pleaded, “why shouldn’t you?”
The effort to answer him was too much for her. She gave it up. A low sigh fluttered through her lips. She nestled closer to him, and faintly closed her eyes. The next instant she started up, trembling from head to foot, and looked at the sky-light. Richard Turlington’s voice was suddenly audible on deck exactly above them.


