ers in their berths, and was thus qualified to present
them to Mrs. Cliff as fast as they should make their appearance. At
dinner-time two more came into the saloon, and the next morning at
breakfast the delegation from the Synod were all present, with the
exception of two whose minds were not yet quite capable of properly
appreciating the subject of nutrition.

When at last the _Summer Shelter_ found herself in the smoother waters
and the warmer air of the Gulf Stream, when the nautilus spread its
gay-colored sail in the sunlight by the side of the yacht, when the
porpoises flashed their shining black bodies out of the water and
plunged in again as they raced with the swiftly moving vessel, when
great flocks of flying-fish would rise into the air, skim high above the
water, and then all fall back again with a patter as of big rain-drops,
and the people on the deck of the _Summer Shelter_ took off their heavy
wraps and unbuttoned their coats, it was a happy company which sailed
with Mrs. Cliff among the beautiful isles of the West Indies.

CHAPTER XXIII

WILLY CROUP COMES TO THE FRONT

The pleasant rays of the semi-tropical sun so warmed and subsequently
melted the varied dispositions of the company on board the _Summer
Shelter_ that in spite of their very different natures they became
fused, as it were, into a happy party of friends.

Willy Croup actually felt as if she were a young woman in a large party
of gentlemen with no rivals. She was not young, but many of her youthful
qualities still remained with her, and under the influence of her
surroundings they all budded out and blossomed bravely. At the end of a
day of fine weather there was not a clergyman on board who did not wish
that Miss Croup belonged to his congregation.

As for the members of the Synod, there could be no doubt that they were
thoroughly enjoying themselves. Tired with the long winter's work, and
rejoiced, almost amazed, to be so suddenly freed from the cold wintry
weather of their homes, all of their spirits rose and most of their
hearts were merry.

There were but few gray heads among these clergymen, and the majority of
them were under middle age. Some of them had been almost strangers to
each other when they came on board, but now there were no strangers on
the _Summer Shelter_. Some of them had crossed the Atlantic, but not one
had ever taken a coastwise voyage on a comparatively small vessel, and
although the consequence of