mariner's death.

"He would never have heard of the _Golden Cloud_ if it hadn't been for
me," she said, trembling. "His death is at my door."

Fraser tried to comfort her and straining metaphor to the utmost, said
that if the finger of Providence had not made her oversleep herself she
would undoubtedly have shared the same fate.

The girl shook her head.

"He shipped before the mast for the sake of being on the same ship as I
was," she said, with quivering lip; "it is not every man who would have
done that, and I--I--"

"Overslept yourself," said Fraser, consolingly.

Miss Tyrell made an impatient gesture, but listened hopefully as her
visitor suggested that it was quite possible Flower had got away in
another boat.

"I'll watch the paper every day," she said, brightening; "you miss some
at sea."

But nothing came of the watching. The _Golden Cloud_ had had its
obituary in the paper in large type, and that was all--a notice to
certain women and children scattered about Europe to go into mourning
and to the owners to get another ship.

By the end of the couple of months Fraser had given up all hope. He
was very sorry for his unfortunate friend, but his sorrow was at times
almost tempered by envy as he pondered over the unexpected change which
had come over his relations with Poppy Tyrell. The old friendly footing
had disappeared, and her manner had become distant as though, now that
the only link which connected them was broken, there was no need for
further intercourse. The stiffness which ensued made his visits more
and more difficult. At last he missed calling one night when he was in
London, and the next time he called the girl was out. It was a fortnight
before he saw her, and the meeting was embarrassing to both.

"I'm sorry I was out last time you came," said Poppy.

"It didn't matter," said Fraser.

Conversation came to a standstill. Miss Tyrell, with her toes on
the fender, gazed in a contemplative fashion at the fire. "I didn't
know----" began Fraser, who was still standing.

He cleared his voice and began again. "I didn't know whether you would
rather I left off coming," he said, slowly.

Her gaze travelled slowly from the fire to his face. "You must please
yourself," she said, quietly.

"I would rather please you," he said, steadily.

The girl regarded him gravely. "It is rather inconvenient for you
sometimes," she suggested, "and I am afraid that I am not very good
company."

Fraser s