nown before the steward uttered her name, for he noticed a slight
modifying of her previous attitude of thorough enjoyment. For his
part, Armitage of course had no reason for altering his bearing, and
that he did not was observed and appreciated by his companion. This
eventually had the effect of restoring both to their former footing.

"Yes," she said finally, "it has been rather a novel experience. I am
indebted to you."

"Not to me," said Armitage. Then, by way of conversation, "novel
experiences, as a rule, are not so easily had."

"No, I grasp them whenever," she jerked her head toward the cabin above
and smiled, "whenever I can, conveniently. My old tutor in Munich was
always impressing it upon me never to neglect such opportunities."

"Opportunities? Oh, I see--slumming." Armitage glanced about the
apartment and laughed.

She frowned.

"I was speaking categorically, not specifically; at least I meant to.
I did not mean slumming; I detest it. '_Seine erfahrungen
erweitern_'--enlarging one's experience--is the way my teacher put it.
Life is so well-ordered with us. There are many well-defined things to
do--any number of them. The trouble is, they are all so well defined.
We glide along and take our switches, as father would say, like so many
trains." She smiled. "And so I love to run off the track once in a
while."

"May I have the credit of having misplaced the switch?" Armitage's
eyes were twinkling as the girl arose with a nod.

In the upper cabin, Mrs. Wellington, apparently, still slept, to
Armitage's great joy. Her daughter, with hardly a glance into the
cabin, stepped to the rail and looked down the bay with radiant face.
The promise of the early hours had been established; it was a beautiful
day. It was one of these mornings typical of the hour; it looked like
morning, smelt like morning, there was the distinct, clean, pure,
inspiring feel of morning. The skies were an even turquoise with
little filmy, fleecy shreds of clouds drifting across; the air was
elixir; and the blue waters, capped here and there with white, ran
joyously to meet the green sloping shores, where the haze still
lingered. Ahead, an island glowed like an opal.

"Perfect, perfectly stunning!" cried the girl. Somehow Armitage felt
the absence of that vague barrier which, heretofore, she had seemed
almost unconsciously to interpose, as her eyes, filled with sheer
vivacity, met his.

"What are those little thin