"Oh, was Helena frightened?" asked Archie rather greedily.
"Yes. So was Cousin Marion. I wasn't."
"Then you were beastly unsympathetic. I had an awful shave getting into the harbour," remarked Archie.
"But you knew what you were about, and I didn't, nor did Helena. So I preferred to have confidence in you and go for a walk, rather than observe you in what looked remarkably like danger."
Archie had walked up from the landing-stage with his shoes and his coat under his arm. The coat was too wet to put on, so he dusted his feet with it, and resumed his shoes.
"Oh, a ripping afternoon," he said again.
The sound of the clanging gate into the Castello was heard out in the garden, and as they walked up the dim stone-flagged passage that led out into it, another girl came running in. She, like her sister, was tall and slight, but there the resemblance altogether ended. A delicate, small-featured face, entirely feminine, gleamed below yellow hair; her eyes, set rather wide apart, giving her an adorably childish look, opened very widely below their dark eyelashes. Beside her, Jessie looked somewhat like a well-bred plough-boy.
"Oh, Archie!" she cried. "How horribly rash of you! Your mother and I have had a terrible half-hour."
"I bring you cigarettes to soothe your disordered nerves," said Archie sententiously. "I am happy to say that they are dry, though I am not."
Jessie had walked on, with that pleasant expression on her face that might or might not be a smile, and the two were left alone for a moment.
"As if I cared about the cigarettes," she said.
"You did this morning. But you weren't really anxious, were you?"
