nerved herself for the venture into the single women's
quarters. Leaving him out altogether, it seemed to her that there was
something rather fine in the way that the sergeant and the petty officer
who was going out almost penniless to Canada, had saddled themselves
with the task of looking after those helpless lads. It was wholly unpaid
labor, for which the men who preferred to remain within the safe limits
of the saloon deck would presumably get the credit. After all, she
decided, there were, no doubt, men in every station who helped to keep
the world sweet and clean, and she believed that Wyllard was to be
counted among them. He certainly differed in many ways from Gregory, but
then Gregory was unapproachable. She did not remember that it was four
years since she had seen Hawtrey, and that her ideas had been a little
unformed then.

In the evening, Mrs. Hastings, with whom he was evidently a favorite,
happened to speak of Wyllard, and the efforts he was making in the
steerage, and Agatha asked a question.

"Does he often undertake this kind of thing?"

"No," Mrs. Hastings answered with a smile. "Any way, not on so large a
scale. He's very far from setting up as a professional philanthropist,
my dear. I don't remember his offering to point out duty to other folks,
and I don't think he goes about in search of an opportunity of
benefiting humanity. Still, when an individual case thrusts itself
beneath his nose, he generally does what he can."

"I've heard people say that the individual method only perpetuates the
trouble," remarked Agatha.

Mrs Hastings shook her head. "That," she said, "is a subject I'm not
well posted on, but it seems to me that if other folks only adopted
Harry Wyllard's simple plan, there would be considerably less need for
organized charity."

CHAPTER IX

THE FOG

During the next two days before a moderate gale the _Scarrowmania_
shouldered her way westwards through the big, white-topped combers that
rolled down upon her under a lowering sky. There were no luxurious,
steam-propelled hotels in the Canadian trade at this time, and loaded
deep with railway metal as she was, the vessel slopped in the green seas
everywhere, and rolled her streaming sides out almost to her bilge. She
shivered and rattled horribly when her single screw swung clear and the
tri-compound engines ran away.

Wyllard went down to the steerage every now and then, and Agatha, who
contrived to keep on her feet