suspender business, I suppose," she snapped, enraged
at her failure to pierce the foe's armor. "It's a crying scandal that
you should thrust yourself on your betters."

This annoyed the Tyro. Not that he allowed Mrs. Denyse to perceive it.
With a bland, reminiscent smile he remarked:--

"Speaking of scandals, I observed a young man, rather informally clad,
entering Stateroom 144 D at a late hour last night, in some haste."

"Oh!" gasped Mrs. Denyse, and there was murder in her tones.

"He looked to me like young Sperry."

Mrs. Denyse glowed ocular fire.

"And, according to the list, Stateroom 144 D is occupied by Mrs.
Charlton Denyse."

Mrs. Denyse growled an ominous, subterranean growl.

"Now, my dear madam, in view of this fact, which I perceive you do not
deny" (here the lady gave evidence of having a frenzied protest stuck in
her throat like a bone), "I would suggest that you cease chaperoning me
and attend to the proprieties in your own case. Hi, Dr. Alderson!" he
called to that unsuspecting savant who was passing, "will you look after
Mrs. Denyse for a bit? I fear she's ill." And he made his escape.

What Mrs. Denyse said to Dr. Alderson when she regained the power of
coherent speech, is beside the purposes of this chronicle. Suffice it to
state that he left in some alarm, believing the unfortunate woman to
have lost her mind.

The Tyro sought out his deck-chair and relapsed into immitigable
boredom. He was not the only person aboard to be dissatisfied with the
way affairs were developing. As an amateur Cupid, Judge Enderby had been
fancying himself quite decidedly. Noting, however, that there had been
absolutely no communication between his two young clients that day, he
began to distrust his diplomacy, and he set about the old, familiar
problem of administering impetus to inertia. Sad though I am to say it
of so eminent a member of the bar, his method perilously approached
betrayal of a client's confidence.

It was after his evening set-to at bridge, when, coming on deck for a
good-night sniff of air, he encountered the Tyro who was lugubriously
contemplating the moon.

"Hah!" he greeted. "How's the dumb palsy?"

"Worse," was the morose reply.

"Haven't seen your pretty little acquaintance about to-day. Have you?"

"No."

"Don't swear at me, young man," reproved the lawyer, mildly.

"I didn't swear at you, sir," said the startled Tyro.

"Not in words, but in tone. Not that I blame you for