ed any."

"Oh! what a cynic you must be," she answered with a rippling laugh,
"as though women, helpless as they are, were not always thankful for
the tiniest attention. Did not the pretty girl with the black eyes
thank you for your attentions yesterday, for instance?"

"Did the lady with the brown eyes thank me for my attentions--my very
necessary attentions--yesterday, for instance?" he answered, somewhat
mollified, for the laugh and the voice would have thawed a human
icicle, and, with all his faults, Arthur was not an icicle.

"No, she did not; she deferred doing so in order that she might do it
better. It was very kind of you to help me, and I daresay that you
saved my life, and I--I beg your pardon for being so cross, but being
sea-sick always makes me cross, even to those who are kindest to me.
Do you forgive me? Please forgive me; I really am quite unhappy when I
think of my behaviour." And Mrs. Carr shot a glance at him that would
have cleared the North-West Passage for a man-of-war.

"Please don't apologize," he said, humbly. "I really have nothing to
forgive. I am aware that I took a liberty, as you put it, but I
thought that I was justified by the circumstances."

"It is not generous of you, Mr. Heigham, to throw my words into my
teeth. I had forgotten all about them. But I will set your want of
feeling against my want of gratitude, and we kiss and be friends."

"I can assure you, Mrs. Carr, that there is nothing in the world I
should like better. When shall the ceremony come off?"

"Now you are laughing at me, and actually interpreting what I say
literally, as though the English language were not full of figures of
speech. By that phrase," and she blushed a little--that is, her cheek
took a deeper shade of coral--"I meant that we would not cut each
other after lunch."

"You bring me from the seventh heaven of expectation into a very
prosaic world; but I accept your terms, whatever they are. I am
conquered."

"For exactly half an hour. But let us talk sense. Are you going to
stop at Madeira?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"I don't know; till I get tired of it, I suppose. Is it nice,
Madeira?"

"Charming. I live there half the year."

"Ah, then I can well believe that it is charming."

"Mr. Heigham, you are paying compliments. I thought that you looked
above that sort of thing."

"In the presence of misfortune and of beauty"--here he bowed--"all men
are reduced to the same level. Talk to me