a matter of temperament and training. Inside, I suppose, every
decent man feels the same about his own country, allowing for racial
differences. I don't suppose, though, you'd have quite the same
sensation if you were an American returning home after a long absence."

"Good Lord, no!" was the unguarded reply.

The Tyro laughed outright. "For once I've pierced the disguise of your
extremely courteous cosmopolitanism, and behold! there's John Bull
underneath, rampantly sure that nobody can be a really justified patriot
except an Englishman."

"Confound you and your traps!" retorted the young peer, ruefully. "Ah, I
say, Cecily!" he cried as Little Miss Grouch appeared, looking, in her
long soft traveling-coat, rather lovelier (so the Tyro considered within
himself) than any human being has any right to look.

She came over to the rail, giving the Tyro the briefest flutter of a
glance to accompany her "Good-morning, Mr. Smith."

"I appeal to you," continued Lord Guenn. "You're a cosmopolitan--"

"Indeed, I'm not! I'm an American," said the young lady with vigor.

"Heaven preserve us! You Yankees are all alike. You may be as mild and
deprecatory as you please at home; one sniff of foreign air, and up
goes the Stars and Stripes. Very well, I withdraw the appeal. To change
the subject, when are you coming to us? Laura will be on the tender and
she'll want to know."

"Dad will also be on the tender," observed Little Miss Grouch, "and
he'll want to know, oh, heaps of things!"

"True enough! We'll keep out of the way of your affecting reunion. Lady
Guenn's got a stateroom, Smith, in case it might rain. Come around and
meet her. Unless I'm mistaken, the tender's putting out now."

"Oh!" cried Little Miss Grouch. "That adorable kiddie! I nearly forgot
him. Don't forget, please," she added to the Tyro, "you promised to look
after them and see that they got on the right train."

"Steerage passengers come in later," said Lord Guenn. "Hullo! There's
your pater, on the upper deck of the tender. Doesn't look particularly
stern and unforgiving, does he? Perhaps you'll get off with your life,
after all."

Little Miss Grouch turned rather white, and shot an appealing look at
the Tyro, correctly interpreting which, he wandered away.

When he next saw her, she was in the arms of a square-faced grizzled
man, and manifestly quite content to be there. The tender was swaying
alongside in a strong tide-rip and the Tyro himself was ma