Meanwhile at Madeira matters were going on much as we left them; there had indeed been little appreciable change in the situation.

For his part, our friend Arthur continued to dance or rather stroll along the edge of his flowery precipice, and found the view pleasant and the air bracing.

And no doubt things were very nicely arranged for his satisfaction, and had it not been for the ever-present thought of Angela — for he did think of her a great deal and with deep longing — he should have enjoyed himself thoroughly, for every day was beautiful, and every day brought its amusements with it. Perhaps on arriving at the Quinta Carr about eleven o’clock, he would find that the steam launch was waiting for them in a little bay where the cliff on which the house stood curved inwards. Then, a merry party of young English folks all collected together by Mrs. Carr that morning by the dint of superhuman efforts, they would scramble down the steps cut in the rock and steam off to some neighbouring islet to eat luncheon and wander about collecting shells and flowers and beetles till sunset, and then steam back again through the spicy evening air, laughing and flirting and making the night melodious with their songs. Or else the horses would be ordered out and they would wander over the lonely mountains in the interior of the island, talking of mummies and all things human, of Angela and all things divine. And sometimes, in the course of these conversations, Arthur would in a brotherly way call Mrs. Carr “Mildred,” while occasionally, in the tone of a spinster aunt, she would address him as “Arthur,” a practice that, once acquired, she soon found was, like all other bad habits, not easy to get rid of. For somehow in all these expeditions she was continually at his side, striving, and not without success, to weave herself into the substance of his life, and to make herself indispensable to him, till at last he grew to look upon her almost as a sister.

But beyond this he never went, and to her advances he was as cold as ice, simply because he never noticed them, and she was afraid of making them more obvious for fear that she would frighten him away. He thought it the most natural thing in the world that he and Mildred should live together like brother and sister, and be very fond of each other as “sich,” whilst she thought him — just what he was — the blindest of fools, and then loved him the more for his folly. The sisterly relationship did not possess the same charms for Mildred that it did for Arthur; they looked at matters from different points of view.

One morning, peeping through a big telescope that was fixed in the window of the little boudoir which formed an entrance lobby to the museum, Mrs. Carr saw a cloud of smoke upon the horizon. Presently the point of a mast poked up through the vapour as though the vessel were rising out of the ocean, then two more mastheads and a red and black funnel, and last of all a great grey hull.

“Hurrah!” called out Mrs. Carr, with one eye still fixed to the telescope and the remainder of her little face all screwed up in her efforts to keep the other closed, “it’s the mail; I can see the Donald Currie flag, a white C on a blue ground.”

“Well, I am sure, Mildred, there’s no need for you to make your face look like a monkey, if it is; you look just as though the corner of your mouth were changing places with your eyebrow.”

“Agatha, you are dreadfully rude; when the fairies took your endowments in hand, they certainly did not forget the gift of plain speech. I shall appeal to Mr. Heigham; do I look like a monkey, Mr. Heigham? No, on second thoughts, I won’t wait for the inevitable compliment. Arthur, hold your tongue and I will tell you something. That must be the new boat, the Garth Castle, and I want to see over her. Captain Smithson, who is bringing her out, has got a box of things for me. What do you say if we kill two birds with one stone, go and see the vessel and get our luncheon on board.”

“I am at your ladyship’s service,” answered Arthur, lazily, “but would you like to have the compliment apropos of the monkey? I have thought of something extremely neat now.”

“Not on any account; I hate compliments that are not meant,” and her eyes gave a little flash which put a point to her words. “Agatha, I suppose that you will come?”

“Well, yes, dear, the bay looks pretty smooth.”

“Smooth, yes, you might sail across it in a paper ship,” yawned Arthur.

“For goodness’ sake don’t look so lazy, Mr. Heigham, but ring the bell — not that one, the electric one — and let us order the launch at once. The mail will be at anchor in about an hour.”

Arthur did as he was bid, and within that time they were steaming through the throng of boats already surrounding the steamer.

“My gracious, Mildred,” suddenly exclaimed Agatha, “do you see who that is there leaning over the bulwarks? oh, he’s gone, but so sure as I am a living woman, it was Lord Minster and Lady Florence Thingumebob, his sister, you know, the pretty one.”

Mildred looked vexed, and glanced involuntarily at Arthur who was steering the launch. For a moment she hesitated about going on, and glanced again at Arthur. The look seemed to inspire her, for she said nothing, and presently he brought the boat deftly alongside the gangway ladder.

The captain of the ship had already come to the side to meet her, having recognized her from the bridge; indeed there was scarcely a man in Donald Currie’s service who did not know Mrs. Carr, at any rate, by sight.

“How do you do, Mrs. Carr; are you coming on to South Africa with us?”

“No, Captain Smithson; I, or rather we, are coming to lunch, and to see your new boat, and last, but not least, to claim my box.”

“Mrs. Carr, will you ever forgive me? I have lost it!”

“Produce my box, Captain Smithson, or I will never speak to you again. I’ll do more. I’ll go over to the Union line.”

“In which case, I am afraid Donald Currie would never speak to me again. I must certainly try to find that box,” and he whispered an order to a quartermaster. “Well, it is very kind of you to come and lunch, and I hope that you and your friends will do so with me. Till then, good-by, I must be off.”

As soon as they got on the quarter-deck, Arthur perceived a tall, well-preserved man with an eyeglass, whom he seemed to know, bearing down upon them, followed by a charming-looking girl, about three-and-twenty years of age, remarkable for her pleasant eyes and the humorous expression of her mouth.

“How do you do, Mrs. Carr?” said the tall man. “I suppose that you heard that we were coming; it is very good of you to come and meet us.”

“I had not the slightest idea that you were coming, and I did not come to meet you, Lord Minster; I came to lunch,” answered Mrs. Carr, rather coldly.

“Nasty one for James that, very,” murmured Lady Florence; “hope it will do him good.”

“I was determined to come and look you up as soon as I got time, but the House sat very late. However, I have got a fortnight here now, and shall see plenty of you.”

“A good deal too much I daresay, Lord Minster; but let me introduce you to Mr. Heigham.”

Lord Minster glanced casually at Arthur, and, lifting his hat about an eighth of an inch, was about to resume his conversation, when Arthur, who was rather nettled by this treatment, said,

“I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, Lord Minster; we were stopping together at the Stanley Foxes last autumn.”

“Stanley Foxes, ah, quite so, forgive my forgetfulness, but one meets so many people, you see,” and he turned round to where Mrs. Carr had been, but that lady had taken the opportunity to retreat. Lord Minster at once followed her.

“Well, if my brother has forgotten you, Mr. Heigham, I have not,” said Lady Florence, now coming forward for the first time. “Don’t you remember when we went nutting together and I tumbled into the pond?”

“Indeed I do, Lady Florence, and I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you again. Are you here for long?”

“An indefinite time: an old aunt of mine, Mrs. Velley, is coming out by next mail, and I am going to stop with her when my brother goes back. Are you staying with Mrs. Carr?”

“Oh no, only I know her very well.”

“Do you admire her?”

“Immensely.”

“Then you won’t like James — I mean my brother.”

“Why not?”

“Because he also admires her immensely.”

“We both admire the view from here very much indeed, but that is no reason why you and I should not like each other.”

“No, but then you see there is a difference between lovely scenery and lovely widows.”

“Perhaps there is,” said Arthur.

At this moment Lord Minster returned with Mrs. Carr.

“How do you do, Lady Florence?” said the latter; “let me introduce you to Mr. Heigham. Wh............