to him. He stared at her, coughed
again and held out his hand for the book.

"That's rather a difficult book for a girl to be reading, isn't it?" he
said, glancing at the title page. "Oh, Kraill the biologist? Whatever
makes you read that? I thought girls read Mrs. Barclay and Charles
Garvice."

"I have not read any of their books yet," she said. "I read this book
some time ago, and it seemed to me to hold the whole illumination of
life. But since I've been on this ship I've been in a muddle about
things. People are not a bit like I thought they would be. I was awake
hours last night trying to get right about it."

"They're not a very nice collection here--in the steerage. But
the difference in fare between steerage and second is very
considerable--very considerable," he sighed. "My profession must take
care of the financial aspect of life."

Marcella felt that he was honest. He was the first passenger who had
admitted that he had not unlimited wealth.

"That's refreshing. Most of the people here want one to think they are
disguised millionaires only travelling steerage to enquire into the ways
of poorer folks. And that's part of my puzzle. I want to know _why_
these people are not a very nice collection. Is my taste at fault? Last
night I raked out my 'Golden Treasury' and read about 'Blind misgivings
of a creature roaming about in worlds not realized.'"

"You misquote," he murmured. "'Blank' not 'blind' and 'moving' not
'roaming.'"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Of course," he said with an air of depth and of conscious helpfulness,
"the most difficult thing on earth--and, I may remark, the most
important--is realization of one's sphere, and one's place in that
sphere. And our way of instructing the young in such realization is
defective, defective to a degree at present. Queerly enough I am just
reading Tagore on 'Realization.' You know Tagore, of course?"

She shook her head.

"He is the Bengali poet who was recently honoured by His Majesty with a
knighthood. Perhaps you would like to change books and see what he says?
I have marked something on page sixteen that is helpful, particularly
helpful."

"Thank you. But take care of my book, won't you? It is very precious,
because it belonged to my father."

She looked into "Realization," but its cool calmness failed to grip her
at first, and she lay back in her chair, the breeze fanning her hair,
the deep blue of the sky flecked with little cirrus clouds a