telegram to
Mary, which ran thus:

"If you hear that I have been drowned, don't believe it. Have arrived
safe home after a night at sea."

This done, for he guessed that all sorts of rumours would be abroad, he
inquired after Mr. Fregelius and Stella. Having learned that they were
both going on well and sent off his telegram, Morris went to bed and
slept for ten hours.

Morris looked round the comfortable sitting-room with its recessed Tudor
windows, its tall bookcases and open hearth, where burned a bright fire
of old ship's timbers supported on steel dogs, and thought to himself
that he was fortunate to be there. Then the door opened, he heard the
housemaid's voice say, "This way please, Miss," and Stella came in. She
wore a plain white dress that seemed to fit her very well, though where
she got it from he never discovered, and her luxuriant hair was twisted
up into a simple knot. On the bosom of her dress was fixed a spray of
brilliant ampelopsis leaves; it was her only ornament, but none could
have been more striking. For the rest, although she limped and still
looked dark and weary about the eyes, to all appearances she was not
much the worse for their terrible adventure.

Morris glanced at her. Could this dignified and lovely young lady be
that red-cloaked, loose-haired Valkyrie whom he had seen singing at
daybreak upon the prow of the sinking ship, or the piteous bedraggled
person whom he had supported from the altar in the Dead Church?

She guessed his thought--from the beginning Stella had this curious
power of discovering his mind--and said with a smile:

"Fine feathers make fine birds, and even Cleopatra would have looked
dreadful after a November night in an open boat."

"Have you recovered?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Monk; that is, I don't think I am going to have inflammation
of the lungs or anything horrid of the sort. The remedies and that walk
stopped it. But my feet are peeling from being soaked so long in salt
water, and my hands are not much better. See," and she held them towards
him.

Then dinner was announced, and for the second time that day they walked
arm-in-arm.

"It seems a little strange, doesn't it?" suggested Morris as he surveyed
the great refectory in which they two, seated at the central table,
looked so lone and small.

"Yes," she answered; "but so it should, anything quite usual would have
been out of place to-day."

Then he asked her how her father was going on, a