f the crossing. Everybody was
down for the farewell dinner. Even those who had been invisible for two
days emerged from their state-rooms like gorgeous butterflies from their
cocoons. Speeches were made, toasts were drunk, and a general air of
festivity prevailed.

Percival raged inwardly at the length of the dinner. The golden moments
were racing by, and he was in a fever to get Bobby away to himself,
he had decided on a course which he felt did credit to his power of
self-control. He would permit himself the luxury of showing her that her
affection for him was wholly returned, without in any way committing
himself to a definite engagement. He would, in short, ask her to accept
a sort of promissory note on his affections, to be presented at any time
after the steamer left Hong-Kong.

It was ten o'clock before he contrived, to escape Mrs. Weston's vigilant
eye and whisk Bobby off to a certain favored nook on the boat-deck just
outside the captain's state-room. Here they had spent many happy
evenings, notwithstanding the fact that their figures, silhouetted
against the light, had never failed to provoke the captain to a
profanity that was not always inaudible.

To-night, however, the captain was detained below, and they had the
entire Yellow Sea to themselves as they sat on a projecting ledge and
leaned their elbows comfortably on the rail.

It was an enticing night, with nothing left of the recent storm save a
subtle thrill that still lingered in wind and wave. Overhead spread a
canopy of luminous, subtropical stars; in undisturbed silence they gazed
up at their brilliance. From below floated faint strains of music
mingling with the sound of rippling: water.

"And to think it's our very last night!" murmured Bobby, her chin on her
palm. "I'll never bear 'La Paloma' that I sha'n't think of this trip and
of you."

Percival dared not answer. He had reached that stage when, according
to the philosopher, the moonlight is a pleasing fever, the stars are
letters, the flowers ciphers, and the air is coined into song. He
regarded her gaze as she bent it upon the stars as the most exquisitely
pensive thing he had ever behold.

"My! but there are some dandy billiard-shots up there!" she exclaimed
suddenly. "Do you see that lovely carom over there beyond the Dipper?"

"I am not thinking of caroms," he said impatiently, "I am thinking of
you."

"What have I done now?" she asked indignantly.

"You've made me forget that