"I'm not so good a sailor as Dick, Miss Elton," he said. "Will you trust
yourself with me?"
"Being an independent young woman, I'm willing to depend on you."
"A truly feminine position."
"It means that I am quite capable of seizing the helm myself if you
should fail me," she laughed.
"And I am masculine enough to determine that you shall get it only by
favor, not by necessity," he retorted.
"That suits me quite well," Madeline answered gravely.
"And you are not apprehensive of storms in the vague far-away?"
"Don't. I'm so contented with things as they are that I do not want to
think of far-aways or of anything that means change."
"You are satisfied with to-day?" he persisted.
"Perfectly."
Ellery flushed with traitorous rejoicing that Dick was absent. It was a
day of sunshine--not the ardent blaze of summer, but the crisp glow of
October that seems all light with little heat. The lake was so pale as
to be hardly blue, and girdled with soft yellow, touched only here and
there with the intenser red of the rock maples. Back farther from shore
rose the tawny bronze of oaks. The light breeze flung the Swallow
along with those caressing wave-slaps that are the sleepiest of sounds.
To sail under that sky, with Madeline leaning on her elbow near at hand,
they two separated from the rest of the world by wide waters, was like a
brief experience of Paradise. Ellery watched the light tendril of hair
that touched her cheek, lifted itself and touched again, near that
lovely curve above her ear. The cheek was warm and creamy but untouched
by deeper color. He fell into that mood of blessed silence that, as a
rule, comes only when one is solitary.
As they rounded at the dock he came back to himself with a sudden wonder
if she had missed the titillation of Dick's chatter, for she had been as
silent as he.
"I'm afraid I have been very dull. I enjoyed myself so much that I
forgot to try to amuse you."
"It's been a heavenly sail, exactly to match the day," Madeline answered
with a deep contented sigh that filled him with delight. "I was this
moment thinking what a comfort it was to know you well enough so that I
didn't have to talk. It's a test of comradeship, isn't it?"
As they smiled at each other, his heart leaped with the consciousness of
a bond below the surface.
He treasured this crumb of her kindness, not because she was niggardly,
but because there was little that belonged to him and to him alone.
Sometimes, in the rush and roar of the office, came the memory of her
eyes and her voice of assurance.