in yachting fare, sir."

"Oh, we have been shipwrecked--we are now accustomed to the privations
of the sea--anything that our teeth can meet in will do for us,
captain!" I exclaimed, laughing. "When do you hope to reach
Southampton?"

"Monday afternoon, sir."

"A little more than two days," I exclaimed. "You must be a pretty fast
boat."

He smiled and said, "What might be the port you want to get at, sir?
Southampton may be too high up for you."

"Our destination was Penzance," said I; "but any port that is in
England will do."

"Oh," said he, "there ought to be no difficulty in putting you ashore
at Penzance." He then asked us if we would like to step below, and
forthwith conducted us into a large, roomy, elegantly, indeed
sumptuously, furnished cabin, as breezy as a drawing-room, and aromatic
with the smell of plantains or bananas hung up somewhere near, though
out of sight. The panels were hand-painted pictures, the upper deck or
ceiling was finely embellished, and there was a gilt centrepiece from
which depended a small but costly chandelier or candelabra that
projected some ten or twelve oil lamps. The carpet was a thick velvet
pile, and there were curtains and mirrors as in a drawing-room; indeed,
I never could have imagined such an interior on board a sea-going
structure, and though it was all very grand and princely to look at, I
could not but regard the whole as an example of wanton, senseless
extravagance.

"This should suit you, Grace!" said I.

"Is it not heavenly?" she cried.

The captain stood by with a pleased countenance, observing us.

"I don't know if I'm right in calling you _sir_?" he exclaimed; "I
didn't rightly catch your name."

"My name is Mr. Herbert Barclay."

"Thank ye, sir. I was going to say if you and her ladyship--"

"No, not her ladyship," I interrupted, guessing that the fellow, having
caught the name of Lady Amelia Roscoe, was confounding Grace with that
title; but here I broke off, with a conscious look, I fear, for I could
not speak of my sweetheart as Miss Bellassys with that ring on her
finger, nor would it have been safe to talk of her as my wife either:
in her presence, at all events, for she had the most sweet ingenuous
face imaginable, through which every mood and thought peeped, and
Captain Verrion's eyes seemed somewhat shrewd.

"I was going to say, sir," he proceeded, "that you're welcome to any of
the sleeping berths you may have a mind to. If you w