gradually took form the ideal hero her heart craved
for. She was resting on a country road, and a man was approaching. He
was tall, with dark, wavy hair and smooth face, and the clean-cut
features of a Greek god. He knew she was rich, but he cared not, for he
despised mere wealth, and he was about to pass by unheeding, when he
chanced to notice her face, which pleased his sense of beauty. He
stopped wondering, and, chatting with her, marveled at the liquid
splendor of her eyes. This was the woman he had sought, the woman for
whom he would toil and fight. He took her hand, and at his touch her
heart leaped ecstatically. A strange thrill stirred her as he gazed
hungrily into her eyes and gently drew her to him. Timidly she yielded
to his ardent embrace, and as he clasped her soft form roughly to his
strong breast and his warm lips met hers in a deep, lingering kiss that
seemed to aspire her very soul, a sensation she had never known before
invaded her entire being. She felt as though she would swoon.

"Aren't you getting hungry, Grace? Whatever are you so engrossed about?"
said Mrs. Stuart petulantly.

The interruption was so sudden and abrupt that Grace was startled, and
it was with some confusion that she replied:

"Just thinking--that's all! This weather actually makes one foolish."

"Good morning, ladies!"

A shadow suddenly shut out the glare of the sun. Grace and Mrs. Stuart
looked up. It was Captain Summers, who was walking the deck with
Professor Hanson. The _Atlanta_'s commander was a typical sea-dog, big,
broad-shouldered, with a deep bass voice and a face tanned by exposure
to all sorts of weather. Contrasted with Professor Hanson, a nervous
little man, with a bald, domelike cranium, he looked like a giant. Like
most Englishmen, he was frigid in manner and not too amiable in his
intercourse with the passengers. But Grace, Mrs. Stuart, and the
professor happened to sit at his table, which made a difference. For
them he condescended to unbend. He was not blind to the fact that Grace
was an uncommonly good-looking girl, and Mrs. Stuart amused him.
Touching his cap, he sank into the empty seat on the other side of
Grace, while Professor Hanson drew up another chair.

"How long can we expect this glorious weather to last, captain?" asked
Mrs. Stuart, greeting the commander's salute with a gracious smile.

"It's hard to say," he replied pleasantly, after a quick glance at the
sky. "The barometer's steady enou