on
the eve of the time appointed for their marriage, and had not since set
eyes on each other. They met for the first time afterward on the
steamer that was taking them to the Isle of Man, and neither knew the
destination of the other.

Miss Crow looked out of her twinkling eyes and saw a gentleman
promenading on the quarter-deck before her, whom she must have thought
she had somewhere seen before, but that his gigantic black mustache was
a puzzle, and the little imperial on his chin was a baffling difficulty.
Mr. Lovibond puffed the smoke from a colossal cigar, and wondered if the
world held two pair of eyes like those big black ones which glanced
up at him sometimes from a deck stool, a puffy pile of wool, two long
crochet needles, and a couple of white hands, from which there flashed a
diamond ring he somehow thought he knew.

These mutual meditations lasted two long hours, and then a runaway ball
of the wool from the lap of the lady on the deck stool was hotly pursued
by the gentleman with the mustache, and instantly all uncertainty was at
an end.

After exclamations of surprise at the strange recognition (it was all
so sudden), the two old friends came to closer quarters. They touched
gingerly on the past, had some tender passages of delicate fencing, gave
various sly hits and digs, threw out certain subtle hints, and came to
a mutual and satisfactory understanding. Neither had ever looked
at anybody else since their rupture, and therefore both were still
unmarried.

Having reached this stage of investigation, the wool and its needles
were stowed away in a basket under the chair, in order that the lady
might accept the invitation of the gentleman to walk with him on the
deck; and as the wind had freshened by this time, and walking in skirts
was like tacking in a stiff breeze, the gentleman offered his arm to the
lady, and thus they sailed forth together.

"And with whom are you to stay when we reach the island, Jenny?" said
Lovibond.

"With a young Manx friend lately married," said Jenny.

"That's strange; for I am going to do the same," said Lovibond. "Where?"

"At Castle Mona," said Jenny.

"That's stranger still; for it's the place to which I am going," said
Lovibond. "What's your Manx friend's name?"

"Mrs. Quiggin, now," said Jenny.

"That's strangest of all," said Lovibond; "for my friend is Captain
Quiggin, and we are bound for the same place, on the same errand."

This series of coincidences