croak, but you are earning
the character of the raven for yourself to-night. The thing is growing
on you. What IS the use of bringing up unpleasant subjects? You are an
old woman." I fear there was the slightest irritation in my voice; but,
truth is, the last few days' experiences had left their mark on me, and
Hungerford's speech and manner had suddenly grown trying.

He stood for a moment looking at me with direct earnestness from under
his strong brows, and then he stepped forward, and, laying his hand
upon my arm, rejoined: "Do not be raw, Marmion. I'm only a blunt, stupid
sailor; and, to tell you God's truth, as I have told you before, every
sailor is superstitious--every real sailor. He can't help it--I can't. I
have a special fit on me now. Why don't I keep it to myself? Because
I'm selfish, and it does me good to talk. You and I are in one secret
together, and it has made me feel like sharing this thing with a pal, I
suppose."

I seized his hand and begged his pardon, and called myself unpleasant
names, which he on the instant stopped, and said: "That's all right,
Marmy; shake till the knuckles crack! I'm off. Don't forget the dance."
He disappeared down the passage.

Then I went on deck, and the scene which I have so imperfectly described
passed before me. Mrs. Falchion was surrounded with admirers all the
evening, both men and women; and two of the very stately English ladies
of title, to whom I before referred, were particularly gracious to her;
while she, in turn, bore herself with becoming dignity. I danced with
her once, and was down on her programme for another dance. I had also
danced with Belle Treherne, who appeared as Miriam, and was chaperoned
by one of the ladies of title; and I had also "sat out" one dance
with her. Chancing to pass her as the evening wore on, I saw her
in conversation with Mrs. Falchion, who had dismissed her cavalier,
preferring to talk, she said, for dancing was tiresome work on the
Indian Ocean. Belle Treherne, who up to that moment had never quite
liked her, yielded to the agreeable charm of her conversation and her
frank applausive remarks upon the costumes of the dancers. She had a
good word for every one, and she drew her companion out to make the most
of herself, as women less often do before women than in the presence
of men. I am certain that her interest in Belle Treherne was real, and
likewise certain that she cherished no pique against her because I
had transferre