Halloo there! Won't you come to my rescue, please?"
Varrick could hear the girlish voice plainly enough, but he could not imagine whence it came.
Again the shrill cry was repeated. Just then he observed a slight figure standing down near the water's edge of the island he was passing.
Varrick headed for the island at once, and as he drew so near that the face of the girl could be easily distinguished, he made a wonderful discovery – the girl was Jessie Bain.
"I am so glad for deliverance at last!" she cried.
"How in the world came you here?" exclaimed Varrick.
"I came out for a little row," she said, "and stopped at this island for some flowers that I had seen here yesterday. I suppose I could not have fastened my boat very securely, for when I came to look for it, it was gone; and, oh! my uncle would be so angry; he would beat me severely!"
Somehow one word brought on another, and quite unconsciously pretty little Jessie Bain found herself chatting to the stranger, who vowed himself as only too pleased to row out of his way to see her safely home.
"Your home does not seem to be a happy one," he said at length.
"It wouldn't be, if they could have their way. It used to be different when auntie was alive. Now my cousin beats me badly enough, and Uncle John believes all she tells him about me. But I always get even with her.
"In the morning my cousin went to her work (she clerks in one of the village stores), but before she left the house she picked the biggest quarrel you ever heard of, with me – because I wouldn't lend her the only decent dress I have to wear. She expected her beau from a neighboring village to come to town.
"I would have lent it to her, but she's just the kind of a girl that wouldn't take care of anything, unless it was her own, and I knew it would be ruined in one day.
"It took me a whole year to save money enough to get it. I sold eggs to buy it, and, oh, golly! didn't I coax those chicks to lay, though!"
Varrick could not help but smile as he looked at her.
And she was so innocent, too. He wondered if she could be more than sixteen or seventeen years old.
"About four o'clock she sent a note to the house, and in it she said:
"'Dear Cousin Jessie, I am going to bring company home, so for goodness' sake do get up a good dinner. I send a whole basket of good things with the boy who brings this note. Cook them all.'
"Well, I cooked the supper just as she wanted me to do. Oh! it was dreadfully tempting, and right here let me say, whenever there's a broken cup or saucer or plate in the house, or fork with only two prongs, or a broken-handled knife, it always falls to me. My cousin always says: 'It's good enough for Jessie Bain; let her have it.'
"I prepared the dainty supper, ran and got every good knife and fork and plate and cup and saucer, and hid them under an old oak-tree fully half a mile away.
"I left out on the table only the broken things, to see how she'd like them.
"By and by she and her beau came. I ran out the back door as I heard them cross the front porch.
"Oh! but wasn't she mad! I watched her through the window, laughing so hard I almost split my sides, and she fairly flew at me. Then I went down and jumped into my little boat, and pushed away for dear life, to be out of her reach. I rowed down to this island, thinking to fetch her back some flowers to appease her mighty wrath; but I was so tired that I fell asleep. I was frightened nearly to death when I awoke and saw that it was dark night. I had a greater fright still when I discovered that my little boat was gone – had drifted away."
Varrick had almost forgotten his own turbulent thoughts in listening to the girl.
"Are you not afraid of punishment?" he asked, as they neared Fisher's Landing.
He could see a quick, frightened look sweep over the girl's face.
"I don't know what they will do with me," she said.
"If they attempt to abuse you come straight to me!" cried Varrick, quite forgetful in the eagerness of the moment what he was saying.
By this time they had reached Fisher's Landing. He sprung from the skiff and helped her ashore.
"Good-night, and thank you ever so much," she said. And with a quick, childish, thoughtless motion, she bent her pretty head and kissed the strong white hand that clasped her own.
He had been so kind, so sympathetic to her, and that was something new for Jessie Bain.
He watched her in silence as she flitted up the path, until she was lost to sight in the darkness.
Then he re-entered his boat and made his way slowly back to the bay.
The spacious corridors of the grand Hotel Crossmon were wrapped in silence when he reached it.
He half expected to see the two whom he had left in that flower-embowered lovers' nook at the end of the piazza still sitting there.
Then he laughed to himself at the folly of the thought.
Chapter II.
FATE IS AGAINST SOME PEOPLE, FROM THE CRADLE TO THE GRAVE
Change is the law of wind and moon and lover —
And yet I think, lost Love, had you been true,
Some golden fruits had ripened for your plucking
You will not find in gardens that are new.
When Gerelda Northrup bid Captain Frazier good-night, and linked her arm within her mother's, and retired to their apartments, Mrs. Northrup could not help notice how carefully her daughter guarded the great crimson beauty rose she wore on her breast.
The mother also noticed that the handsome captain wore a bud of the same kind in the lapel of his coat.
"My dear," she said, "I think you are going a little too far with Captain Frazier. It will not do to flirt with him on the very eve of your marriage with Hubert Varrick."
"There isn't the least bit of harm in it, mamma," Gerelda answered. "Captain Frazier is a delightful companion. Why shouldn't I enjoy his society?"
"Because it is playing with edged tools," declared Mrs. Northrup. "The captain is desperately in love with you."
"You should not blame him for lingering by my side to the very last moment."
"Trouble will come of it, I fear," returned the other. "He is always at your side."
"Save your lecture until to-morrow. I am sure it will keep. Do please ring the bell for my maid; it is nearly eleven o'clock, and I must not lose my beauty-sleep."
Gerelda Northrup knew in her own mind that all her mother said was but too true; but the spirit of coquetry was so deeply imbedded in her nature that she would not resign her sceptre over her old lovers' hearts until the last moment.
Of course the captain understood thoroughly that all her love was given to Hubert Varrick, and that it was only a very mild flirtation with himself she was indulging in.
She
