o be said, and that the one brilliant epoch
of his life now drew madly to a close.

"What do you think of it all?" the woman asked suddenly, gravely, as
though they had been isolated together in the deep spaces of the
same thought.

"I do not yet--Of what?" rejoined Rudolph, at a loss.

"Of all this." She waved an eloquent little gesture toward the
azure-lighted gulf.

"Oh," he said. "Of the world?"

"Yes," she answered slowly. "The world. Life." Her tone, subdued and
musical, conveyed in the mere words their full enigma and full meaning.
"All this that we see."

"Who can tell?" He took her seriously, and ransacked all his store of
second-hand philosophy for a worthy answer,--a musty store, dead and
pedantic, after the thrilling spirit of her words. "Why, I think--it
is--is it not all now the sense-manifest substance of our duty? Pardon.
I am obscure. '_Das versinnlichte Material unserer Pflicht_' No?"

Her clear laughter startled him.

"Oh, how moral!" she cried. "What a highly moral little griffin!"

She laughed again (but this time it was like the splash of water in a
deep well), and turned toward him that curiously tilted point of chin
and mouth, her eyes shadowy and mocking. She looked young again,--the
spirit of youth, of knowledge, of wonderful brightness and unbelief.

"Must we take it so very, very hard?" she coaxed. "Isn't it just a place
to be happy in?"

As through a tumult he heard, and recognized the wisdom of the ages.

"Because," she added, "it lasts such a little while--"

On the rail their hands suddenly touched. He was aware of nothing but
the nearness and pallor of her face, the darkness of her eyes shining up
at him. All his life seemed to have rushed concentrating into that one
instant of extreme trouble, happiness, trembling fascination.

Footsteps sounded on the deck behind them; an unwelcome voice called
jocosely:--

"Good efening!" The ship's doctor advanced with a roguish, paternal air.
"You see at the phosphor, not?"

Even as she whipped about toward the light, Rudolph had seen, with a
touch of wonder, how her face changed from a bitter frown to the most
friendly smile. The frown returned, became almost savage, when the fat
physician continued:--

"To see the phosphor is too much moon, Mrs. Forrester?"

Had the steamer crashed upon a reef, he would hardly have noticed such a
minor shipwreck. Mrs. Forrester? why, then--When the doctor, after
ponderous pleasantries, had w