_Gazette_ said; and what questions would she have to ask him before she
would come as his guest to the yacht?...
A ripple of water fell across the young man's thought, and he glanced
up. The college professor, whom the current had washed much nearer now,
fancying, it appeared, that he had got a bite, had suddenly thrown
himself far over the edge of his canoe, stretching his rod to the
farthest reach. The slender birch-bark tipped so violently that even he
noticed it; and the next instant, he sprang back again, rocking at a
great rate.
"Simpleton!" thought Varney. "He will go over in a minute...."
Now her face rose before him as he had seen it first last night at
Stanhope's cottage, radiant as a dream come true--looking at him and
saying: "I'd like it very much if you could just trust _me!_" And he saw
her again when she had looked at him, eye to eye over the many heads
before the theatre, with only blank unrecognition in her glance, or had
there been, after all, a sort of latent sorrowfulness there? And then he
saw her once more, as she stood in the little box-office, her cheeks
suddenly stained red, when she begged him, please, not to ask her to
discuss it any more....
A sudden sharp thought came to him, putting all his imaginings to
flight, a thought so vital and so obvious that it was incredible that it
had not once crossed his mind before. If the _Gazette_ doubted that he
had returned to New York, if it was still on his trail and still wanted
to embarrass him, _it would send a man straight to Mrs. Carstairs_.
How could he possibly have overlooked that? With the secret of the
_Cypriani's_ ownership out, of course that would be the first thing
Smith would think of: to ask Mrs. Carstairs what had brought her
husband's yacht to Hunston. And when the reporter went, who could say
what damaging admission he might surprise out of the poor lady, or at
the least what inklings to hang diabolical guesses upon? Worst of all,
he might see Miss Carstairs herself--awaken no one knew what suspicions
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