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Lyall, Edna [pseud.], 1857-1903

"Derrick Vaughan, Novelist"

And then,
moreover, they were perpetually together. He would hang over the
piano in the saloon for hours while she played, the rest of us
lazily enjoying the easy chairs and the fresh air on deck; and
whenever we landed, these two were sure in the end to be just a
little apart from the rest of us.
It was an eminently successful cruise. We all liked each other; the
sea was calm, the sunshine constant, the wind as a rule favourable,
and I think I never in a single fortnight heard so many good
stories, or had such a good time. We seemed to get right out of the
world and its narrow restrictions, away from all that was hollow and
base and depressing, only landing now and then at quaint little
quiet places for some merry excursion on shore. Freda was in the
highest spirits; and as to Derrick, he was a different creature.
She seemed to have the power of drawing him out in a marvellous
degree, and she took the greatest interest in his work--a sure way
to every author's heart.
But it was not till one day, when we landed at Tresco, that I felt
certain she genuinely loved him--there in one glance the truth
flashed upon me.


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