it is called at
Sea View."

Yorke was just about to remark, "I know," but checked himself, and said
instead:

"It is a very pretty place, isn't it?"

"Very," assented Leslie; "and quiet. There is no prettier place on the
coast than Portmaris."

"So I should think," he said, looking round, then returning to the
beautiful face. "I am a stranger, and only arrived an hour or two ago."
He looked down, trying to think of something else to say, anything that
would keep her; but could think of nothing.

Leslie stood for a moment, silent, too, then she said:

"Will you not go and change your things now? Dick would be very sorry
if you were to catch cold on his account."

It was on the tip of Yorke's tongue to ask, "Only Dick?" but once
more he checked himself. The retortto this gentleman coming along. I beg you will
not trouble to move the easel. Artists must not be disturbed, or
the inspiration may desert them," he added to Francis Lisle, with a
pleasant smile.

"Thank you, thank you," said Lisle, still clutching the easel; but Grey
had turned the chair with its front to the sea, and the duke called to
Yorke, who had come upon them at this juncture.

"What a pretty place, Yorke!" he said. "Have you had your stroll? Shall
we go back?"

Yorke had discreetly kept behind the chair, and out of sight of his
cousin's sharp eyes.

"All right," he assented.

"Will you give me a cigar?" said the duke.

Yorke came up to the chair and put his hand in his pocket, and
thoughtlessly extended the cigar case.

"Thanks. Good gracious! Why, it is soaking wet!