and who are bare to the storm....

"Look here," he said awkwardly, "don't be unhappy. It's all right. That
man spoke to me on the boat--he did what you wished, he made a will
providing for that woman; I took charge of it for him. As a matter of
fact I went and saw his old mother yesterday. She behaved splendidly."

"Then the life-saver was no good after all?"

"No good," he said, and he avoided looking at her. "At least so it would
seem, but who can tell?"

Nan's eyes filled with tears; something beckoning, appealing seemed to
pass from her to him....

The door suddenly opened.

"Mrs. Eaton, ma'am. She says she only heard what happened, to-day, and
she's sure you will see her."

Before Mrs. Archdale could answer, a woman had pushed her way past the
maid into the room. "Nan? Poor darling! What an awful thing! I _am_ glad
I came so early; now you will be able to tell me all about it!"

The visitor, looking round her, saw John Coxeter, and seemed surprised.
Fortunately she did not know him, and, feeling as if, had he stayed, he
must have struck the woman, he escaped from the room.

* * * * *

As Coxeter went through the hall, filled with a perplexity and pain very
alien from his positive nature, a good-looking, clean-shaven man, who
gave him a quick measured glance, passed by. With him there had been no
parleying at the door as in Coxeter's own case.

"Who's that?" he asked, with a scowl, of the servant.

"The doctor, sir," and he felt absurdly relieved. "We sent for him
yesterday, for Mrs. Archdale seemed very bad last night." The servant
dropped her voice, "It's the doctor, sir, as says Mrs. Archdale oughtn't
to see visitors. You see it was in all the papers about the shipwreck,
sir, and of course Mrs. Archdale's friends all come and see her to hear
about it. They've never stopped. The doctor, he says that she ought to
have stayed in bed and been quite quiet. But what would be the good of
that, seeing she don't seem able to sleep? I suppose you've not suffered
that way yourself, sir?"

The young woman was staring furtively at Coxeter, but, noting his cold
manner and imperturbable face, she felt that he was indeed a
disappointing hero of romance--not at all the sort of gentleman with
whom one would care to be shipwrecked, if it came to a matter of choice.

"No," he said solemnly, "I can't say that I have."

He looked thoughtfully out into what had never been to him a "long