What do you think of _her_ ?" Lorimer turned lazily round in the boat, so that he faced his companion.
"Well, old fellow, if you ask me frankly, I think she is the most beautiful woman I ever saw, or, for that matter, ever heard of.

And I am an impartial critic--perfectly impartial." And, resting on his oar, he dipped the blade musingly in and out of the water, watching the bright drops fall with an oil-like smoothness as they trickled from the polished wood and glittered in the late sunshine like vari-colored jewels.

Then he glanced curiously at Philip, who sat silent, but whose face was very grave and earnest,--even noble, with that shade of profound thought upon it.

He looked like one who had suddenly accepted a high trust, in which there was not only pride, but tenderness.

Lorimer shook himself together, as he himself would have expressed it, and touched his friend's arm half-playfully.
"You've met the king's daughter of Norroway after all, Phil;" and his light accents had a touch of sadness in them; "and you'll have to bring her home, as the old song says.