After a few minutes’ silence she asked, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth: 

“I suppose there is not a piece of paper anywhere about,” and she looked into her pocket and beneath the seat in a vain search; and there was a gleam of mischief in her eyes as she added:  “I suppose you could not accommodate me with a piece of paper, could you, Mr. McNeil?  Oh, thanks.  And a pencil?  Much obliged.  Now, if there is only an empty bottle around some place, with a tight cork, I’ll not despise the shipwrecked mariner’s post office.”  “What are you going to do?” said Hugh, looking at her in surprise.

“Well, if I am to be detained here indefinitely, I would like to send a few parting words to Lancy.  I am sure it would be such a comfort to him, in case the letter ever reached him, to know that I cared enough for him to remain true under such trying circumstances.”

Was she making fun of him or not?  Hugh could not tell, but he snatched the piece of paper from her hand and flung it over the side of the boat.

“Poor Lancy! how he will grieve for me!” she added in a commiserating tone, as she watched the receding scrap of paper.  “You might have allowed me that one bit of consolation, I am sure, Mr. McNeil.”

“Do you really love Lancy so much?  I cannot believe it, Dexie.”

“You might, nevertheless; for believe me, Mr. McNeil, if I had but one last wish granted me, it would be that I might be transported to his side.  Ah me!  I do not think I ever cared for him so much as I do at this present moment,” and Dexie began to sing in a minor tone and in the high, cracked voice of an old woman: 

  “Why—­do—­we—­mourn—­departed—­friends
  Or—­”

“Dexie, stop that!” and Hugh’s’ voice was sharp with pain and annoyance.  “I do believe you are the most vexatious creature that ever lived.”

“It makes me happy to hear you acknowledge that, Mr. McNeil; and I think you are far too sensible to want to spend your whole life with such a vexatious creature as you know me to be.  Put a stop to all this nonsense, and let us return home.”

“Never!  You are trifling with a matter that is more than life and death to me, and you make jokes while I suffer.  Do you think I cannot see through all this professed love for Lancy?  Do girls in love confess it to a third party so freely and openly?  No!  Lancy has no place in your heart at all.  I have watched you too closely to be mistaken,” and before she was aware of his intention her hands were seized in his strong grasp as he poured out his heart in a torrent of passionate words.

Dexie was moved in spite of herself.  She looked into the face so near her, and asked herself the question, “Why could she not love him?” He surely loved her truly, or he would not speak so earnestly.  A future such as he could give her would be eagerly grasped by many young girls.  She had never thought his face half so expressive as it now appeared to her.  Yes, he was very handsome after all; his very soul seemed shining through his eyes, and as he talked she dropped hers before his earnest gaze.