and I'm afraid there is no
such luck as that in store for me. These attacks last a week, at least.
I wish my daughter, however, to go. One of the ladies on board will go
with her--Mrs. Callendar, I believe; and I am going to be so bold as
to ask you to accompany them, if you will. I know you better than any
officer on board; and, besides, I should feel safer and better satisfied
if she went under the protection of an officer,--these barbarous places,
you know!--though, of course, it may be asking too much of you, or what
is impossible."

I assented with pleasure. Belle Treherne was looking at the Latin names
on the bottles at the time, and her face showed no expression either of
pleasure or displeasure. Mr. Treherne said bluffly: "Dr. Marmion, you
are kind--very kind, and, upon my word, I'm much obliged." He then
looked at his daughter as if expecting her to speak.

She looked up and said conventionally: "You are very kind, Dr. Marmion,
and I am much obliged." Then I thought her eyes twinkled with amusement
at her own paraphrase of her father's speech, and she added: "Mrs.
Callendar and myself will be much honoured indeed, and feel very
important in having an officer to attend us. Of course everybody else
will be envious, and, again of course, that will add to our vanity."

At this she would have gone; but her father, who was suffering just
enough pain to enjoy anything that would divert his attention from it,
fell into conversation upon a subject of mutual interest, in which his
daughter joined on occasion, but not with enthusiasm. Yet, when they
came to go, she turned and said kindly, almost softly, as her fingers
touched mine: "I almost envy you your profession, Dr. Marmion. It opens
doors to so much of humanity and life."

"There is no sin," I laughingly said, "in such a covetousness, and,
believe me, it can do no harm to me, at least." Then I added gravely: "I
should like my profession, in so far as I am concerned, to be worth your
envy." She had passed through the door before the last words were said,
but I saw that her look was not forbidding.

.........................

Is there unhappiness anywhere? There is not a vexing toss of the sea,
not a cloud in the sky. Is not catastrophe dead, and the arrows of
tragedy spilled? Peace broadens into deep, perfumed dusk towards Arabia;
languor spreads towards the unknown lands of the farthest south. No
anxious soul leans out from the casement of life; the tim