a little hesitating ripple of
foam here and there. She climbed very carefully down from her bunk;
Jimmy was still sleeping soundly. There was no one about save a few deck
hands scrubbing up above; they were out of sight of land now, and she
gave a deep sigh of exhilaration as she turned on the sea-water spigot
of the bath and, opening the port wide, felt the keen morning breezes
blowing in upon her. Coming out ten minutes later, pink-cheeked and
damp-haired, she met Louis in pyjamas, hurrying along with a towel over
his arm.

"Were you ill yesterday?" she said, standing in front of him. "I could
hear your bunk creaking lots of times in the night, and once or twice
you gave the partition an almighty crack."

"Oh, I'm all right," he said, dashing past without looking at her.

"I suppose," she called softly, with mischief in her eyes, "that you are
intentionally making for the women's bathroom? Someone might want to use
it and be horrified to see you emerging--"

"Laughing at me again, aren't you?" he cried savagely, turning with a
scowl and standing undecided.

She hurried below to give him a chance to retire gracefully.

When she was in a white frock and Jimmy shining with soap and water,
they took their places at the breakfast-table. Mr. Peters looked at
Jimmy in surprise.

"Hello! I never noticed you get up," he said.

"He slept in my cabin," she explained. "He was frightened."

"Very kind of you, I'm sure, young lady," he said and turned to Mrs.
Hetherington, who looked at Marcella calculatingly between narrow lids.
As soon as breakfast was over she put her arm confidingly through
Marcella's and drew her aside.

"Come for a little stroll, dear, won't you? I can see that you're
different from most of the passengers--they're so common so terribly
common. I've regretted very much that I came third class. It wasn't that
I wanted to save money, you know," her voice twittered to little
inarticulacies.

"Most of the people are very interesting," said Marcella.

"I find poor Mistah Petahs interesting, very," said Mrs. Hetherington,
pressing Marcella's arm. "Losing my dear husband, and he losing his
wife--it's a bond, isn't it? And I feel so sorry for a poor man with a
child to bring up."

"Um--" said Marcella doubtfully.

"It's sweet of you to mother the little fellow, dear. He must be a great
trouble to poor Mistah Petahs! I have two little darlings, but I find
that boarding school suits them much better th