onceded the point. Angela should
go with him on condition that Aunt Alice--usually known as Mrs.
Norman--should go too. They would travel with all reasonable swiftness,
and if--as was to be feared--their expedition should prove unsuccessful,
they could loiter a little as they came back, and make themselves
acquainted with various pleasant and interesting places on their way.
They spent the rest of the evening in discussing their route.

Rupert was rich enough to carry out his whim--if whim it could be
called--in the pleasantest and speediest way. Before long he was the
temporary owner of a fine little schooner, in which he proposed to scour
the seas in search of his missing friend. To his great satisfaction,
Captain Somers consented to act as his skipper: a crew of picked men was
obtained; and the world in general received the information that Mr.
Vivian and his sister were going on a yachting expedition for the good
of their health, and would probably not return to England for many
months.

Rupert's spirits rose perceptibly at the prospect of the voyage. He was
tired of inaction, and welcomed the opportunity of a complete change. He
had not much hope of finding Percival, but he was resolved, at any rate,
to explore the Rocas Reef, and discover any existing traces of the
_Arizona_. "And who knows but what there may be some other poor fellows
on that desolate reef?" he said to his secretary, Fane, who was wild
with impatience to set off. "We can but go and see. If we are
unsuccessful we will go round Cape Horn and up to Fiji. I always had a
hankering after those lovely Pacific islands. If you are going down Pall
Mall, Fane, you might step into Harrison's and order those books by Miss
Bird and Miss Gordon Cumming--you know the ones I mean. They will make
capital reading on board."

Angela had been making some purchases in Kensington one afternoon, and
was thinking that it was time to return home, when she came unexpectedly
face to face with an acquaintance. It was Elizabeth Murray.

Angela knew her slightly, but had always liked her. A great wave of
sympathy rose in her heart as her eyes rested upon the face of a woman
who had, perhaps, lost her lover, even as Angela had lost hers.
Elizabeth's face had parted with its beautiful bloom; it was pale and
worn, and the eyelids looked red and heavy, as though from sleepless
nights and many tears. The two clasped hands warmly. Angela's lips
quivered, and her eyes filled with