onvention? Better save the men!
They are the bread-winners, the heads of households. Save the lives
that count, and let us drown. There are women enough--too many. We
should not be missed. I have had no choice in life, but my death is my
own. I will not go! I will stay with you."

Mrs Mannering's practical, commonplace voice struck sharply upon her
ears.

"My good girl," she cried. "You have not to think of yourself at this
moment. You are not the only woman who would rather stay behind. Look
at those poor souls over there who have to leave husbands and sons! Is
it easier for them, or for you? There's only one thing to be done--obey
orders, and do your bit towards smoothing the way. When your turn
comes, you've _got_ to go, and I'll see to it that you _do_!"

She squared her shoulders, and stationed herself grim and relentless by
Katrine's side. In the lurid light her face looked lined, and
incredibly old, but she carried herself bravely, and showed not a quiver
of fear.

Along the deck the band had marshalled, and the strains of a popular
waltz floated with horrible gaiety on the air. Not a note fell flat, or
out of time; stalwart and erect in their smart uniform, the men stood
and played, and the conductor waved his baton as composedly as if they
had been surrounded by a throng of merry dancers, instead of men and
women threatened by instant death. Prom within the brightly-lighted
smoking-room a man could be seen writing a letter. A few feet away a
woman was playing bo-peep with a frightened child. Gradually, as
Katrine stood waiting, her fear subsided, and there stole into her soul
a mysterious courage and calm. Strung to its highest sensibilities the
spirit within her absorbed the atmosphere by which it was surrounded,
and nobly answered the call.

Imagine it! Dwell for one moment on the majesty of it--a crowd of men
and women, each one braced up to his highest, strongest self; to a
_selfless_ self, stifling, for the sake of others, all signs of
distress, obeying the ordinary conventions of society, giving place, the
stronger to the weaker, with a smile and bow, as if that matter of
preference were some society trifle, not a matter of bald life and
death.

As surely as the music floated from the mouth of those brazen
instruments, as the light streamed from the electric arch overhead, so
surely did the spiritual influence of those brave deeds spread over the
ship, and touch with fire every