ows were moved to a faintly critical frown, and nodding
intelligently to the boatswain's remark, that the young gentleman did not
seem quite himself, now that he was nearing home, she went up to Evan,
and said:

'I'm going to give you a lesson in manners, to be quits with you. Listen,
sir. Why did you turn away so ungraciously from Mr. Skerne, while he was
thanking you for having saved his brother's life? Now there's where
you're too English. Can't you bear to be thanked?'

'I don't want to be thanked because I can swim,' said Evan.

'But it is not that. Oh, how you trifle!' she cried. 'There's nothing
vexes me so much as that way you have. Wouldn't my eyes have sparkled if
anybody had come up to me to thank me for such a thing? I would let them
know how glad I was to have done such a thing! Doesn't it make them
happier, dear Evan?'

'My dear Miss Jocelyn!'

'What?'

The honest grey eyes fixed on him, narrowed their enlarged lids. She
gazed before her on the deck, saying:

'I'm sure I can't understand you. I suppose it's because I'm a girl, and
I never shall till I'm a woman. Heigho!'

A youth who is engaged in the occupation of eating his heart, cannot
shine to advantage, and is as much a burden to himself as he is an enigma
to others. Evan felt this; but he could do nothing and say nothing; so he
retired deeper into the folds of the Don, and remained picturesque and
scarcely pleasant.

They were relieved by a summons to breakfast from below.

She brightened and laughed. 'Now, what will you wager me, Evan, that the
Countess doesn't begin:

"Sweet child! how does she this morning? blooming?" when she kisses me?'

Her capital imitation of his sister's manner constrained him to join in
her laugh, and he said:

'I'll back against that, I get three fingers from your uncle, and
"Morrow, young sir!"'

Down they ran together, laughing; and, sure enough, the identical words
of the respective greetings were employed, which they had to enjoy with
all the discretion they could muster.

Rose went round the table to her little cousin Alec, aged seven, kissed
his reluctant cheek, and sat beside him, announcing a sea appetite and
great capabilities, while Evan silently broke bread. The Count de Saldar,
a diminutive tawny man, just a head and neck above the tablecloth, sat
sipping chocolate and fingering dry toast, which he would now and then
dip in jelly, and suck with placidity, in the intervals of a curt
exchange