ace Irving. But this was out of the question now, for he knew
what it would lead to. Even if he should yield to the temptation, he
did not see how he could take any great pleasure in that sort of thing
again, after what had happened.

Of all the consequences of what he had done, the one which had come to
afflict him the most poignantly was that his enjoyment of life was
spoiled. At first he had thought that he never could take pleasure in
anything again so long as he should live, that his good times were gone.
But as his pliable character rearranged itself to suit the new
environment, he began to see that there would come a time when he would
grow accustomed to Ida's death and when his grief would lose its
sharpness. He had even commenced to look forward to this time and to
long for it as a sort of respite and relief. He believed at first that
it would not be for a great many years; but even so soon after the
suicide as this, he saw with a little thrill of comfort that it would be
but a matter of months. At the same time Vandover was surprised and even
troubled at the ease with which he was recovering from the first shock.
He wondered at himself, because he knew he had been sincere in his talk
with his father. Vandover was not given to self-analysis, but now for a
minute he was wondering if this reaction were due to his youth, his good
health and his good spirits, or whether there was something wrong with
him. However, he dismissed these thoughts with a shrug of his shoulders
as though freeing himself from some disagreeable burden. Ah, he was no
worse than the average; one could get accustomed to almost anything; it
was only in the books that people had their lives ruined; and to brood
over such things was unnatural and morbid. Ah! what a dreadful thing to
become morbid! He could not bring Ida back, or mitigate what he had
done, or be any more sorry for it by making himself miserable. Well,
then! Only he would let that sort of thing alone after this, the lesson
had been too terrible; he would try and enjoy himself again, only it
should be in other ways.

Later in the evening, about nine o'clock, when nearly all the passengers
were in bed, and Vandover was leaning over the side of the boat
finishing his pipe before turning in himself, Grace Irving came out of
her stateroom and sat down at a little distance from him, looking out
over the water, humming a little song. She and Vandover were the only
people to be seen on th