The shores were purple and amethystine in the distance . Far out , bluish , phantom-like sails clustered against the pallid horizon . The dory danced like a feather over the ripples . They were close under the shadow of Chapel Point . * * * * * Marian Lesley waited in vain for her lover that afternoon . When he came at last in the odorous dusk of the June night she met him on the acacia-shadowed verandah with cold sweetness . Perhaps some subtle woman-instinct whispered to her where and how he had spent the afternoon , for she offered him no kiss , nor did she ask him why he had failed to come sooner . His eyes lingered on her in the dim light , taking in every detail of her sweet womanly refinement and loveliness , and with difficulty he choked back a groan . Again he asked himself what madness had come over him , and again for an answer rose up the vision of Magdalen Crawford 's face as he had seen it that day , crimsoning beneath his gaze . It was late when he left . Marian watched him out of sight , standing under the acacias . She shivered as with a sudden chill . `` I feel as I think Vashti must have felt , '' she murmured aloud , `` when , discrowned and unqueened , she crept out of the gates of Shushan to hide her broken heart . I wonder if Esther has already usurped my sceptre . Has that girl at the Cove , with her pale , priestess-like face and mysterious eyes , stolen his heart from me ? Perhaps not , for it may never have been mine . I know that Esterbrook Elliott will be true to the letter of his vows to me , no matter what it may cost him . But I want no pallid shadow of the love that belongs to another . The hour of abdication is at hand , I fear . And what will be left for throneless Vashti then ? ''
Esterbrook XXXXX , walking home through the mocking calm of the night , fought a hard battle with himself .
Elliott Esther Marian Vashti acacias afternoon day dory left sceptre