The Lady and the Pirate

When last I saw her she had been in tears. Now she was all smiles and

radiant as the dawn! Her gown, moreover, was one I had never seen

before, and she, herself, seemed monstrous pleased with it, for, by

some miracle, fresh as though from the hands of her maid at home, she

knew herself fair and fit enough to make more trouble for mankind.

"Good morning," said she, casually, as though we had parted but lately

and that conventionally. "Isn't it fine?"

"It is a beautiful picture," said I, "and you fit into it. I am glad

to see you looking so well."

"I wish I could say as much for you," said she. "You look like a

forlorn hope."

"I am nothing better."

"And as though you had not slept."

"I have not, Helena."

"Why not?" her eyes wide open in surprise.

"Because I knew I had either hurt or offended you; and I would do

neither."

"You have done both so often that it should not cost you your sleep,"

said she slowly. "But if you really want to be kind, why can you not

have mercy on a girl who has been packed in a hat box for a month? Let

me go ashore."

"Can you not breathe quite as well where you are, Helena?"

"But I can't walk."

"Oh, yes, you can; and I will walk beside you here on deck."

"But I would like to pick flowers, over there by the embankment."

"The train is too close," said I, smiling grimly.

Her color heightened just a little, but she did not answer my

suspicions. "Please let me walk with you over there," she said. "I

used not to need ask twice."

"Our situation is now reversed, Helena."

"Please, let me walk with you, Sir!"

"I dare not. We might both forget ourselves and go off to New Orleans

for a lark without Aunt Lucinda."

"Oh, I am going to call Aunt Lucinda, too."

"Pardon, but you are going to do nothing of the kind. Even with her as

chaperon, did we get down there in the old city once more, like the

children we once were, Helena, we would forget our duty, would,

perhaps, forget our purpose here. Mademoiselle, I dare not take that

risk."

"Please, Sir, may I walk with you over yonder for just a little time?"

she said, as though it were her first request. She was tying her

quaint little white bonnet strings under her chin now. I raised a

hand.

"You ask a man to put himself into the power of the woman he loves

most in all the world. When a man needs resolution, dare he look into

the eyes of that woman, feel her hand on his arm, have her walk close

to him as they promenade?"