Rarely did Justin's eyes stray to where Bettina sat beside the captain, chatting to him in her confiding voice, making his old heart happy by her interest in his sea-seasoned reminiscences.
It was really a most altruistic performance. One might have imagined that for Justin there was just one woman in the world--Miss Matthews; and for Bettina, just one man--Captain Stubbs. Yet, as the little boat rounded the lighthouse point and came into the rougher waters outside, young hearts were thrilling to the sound of young voices, and the music of the spheres was being played to the accompaniment of beating waves.
When at last they anchored, the fishing was really incidental. To be sure it was exciting, and they had an excellent catch, but Bettina's hat was off and Justin could see her hair. And Justin, standing up in the bow of the boat with his line outflung, was, in Bettina's eyes, more than ever like a young Olympian god.
It was the same at lunch time. They landed on a crescent-shaped strip of beach, backed by rocky walls, where there was plenty of driftwood for their fire. There the captain gave his mind to the making of chowder, and Miss Matthews rendered expert service in the cutting up of onions and potatoes, and in the frying of salt pork.
Justin opened the pickle bottle and did other prosaic and ungodlike acts, and Bettina laid the table on the sands like a real girl instead of a transported nymph, yet each saw the other through a golden haze which magnified the most trivial act and made it important.
Thus, when Bettina set four blue bowls at exact geometric distances on the cloth, Justin thought not of the bowls, but of Bettina's slim white hands; and likewise Justin, gathering driftwood, commended himself to Bettina not for his industry, but for his swinging walk and square shoulders.
For several days Bettina had been heavy-hearted. She had not seen Anthony. He had called her up over the telephone, and had made his excuses; there was the little girl with the appendicitis and the old man with the pneumonia--how Bettina hated the repetition. He would come and see her as soon as possible, he promised, but he had not come.
Diana, too, had not been like herself. On the morning after Bettina's visit to Anthony's house she had not appeared until luncheon. She had looked like a ghost, and had been very busy all the afternoon. She had hinted at affairs which would take her to town for a time, and finally she had gone away. Even Mrs. Martens had seemed disturbed and restless. Hence Bettina had welcomed the invitation from Captain Stubbs. Justin's high spirits, his evident delight in her society, his anger at her rebuffs--these things soothed and flattered her. Above all there was the charm of his glorious youth. She found herself swayed to his mood. Might she not for one little fleeting moment dance to the tune that he piped?