her to say, while in this quasi-privacy, that she was on the eve of
departure, but she kept her resolution against it--she thought it would
have been an unwarrantable experiment. When they returned to their inn
they found Norman looking fagged, but relieved, half asleep on the sofa,
with a novel in his hand. He roused himself as they came in, and, to
avoid any compliments on his own performance, began, "Well, Ethel, are
you ready for the ball?"

"We shall spare her the ball," said Dr. May; "there is a report about
the Alcestis in the newspaper that may make Margaret uncomfortable, and
this good sister will not stay away from her."

Norman started up crying, "What, papa?"

"It is a mere nothing in reality," said Dr. May, "only what we knew
before;" and he showed his son the paragraph, which Norman read as a
death warrant; the colour ebbed from his lips and cheeks; he trembled so
that he was obliged to sit down, and, without speaking, he kept his eyes
fixed on the words, "Serious apprehensions are entertained with regard
to H. M. S. Alcestis, Captain Gordon--"

"If you had seen as many newspaper reports come to nothing, as I have,
you would not take this so much to heart," said Dr. May. "I expect to
hear that this very mail has brought letters."

And Meta added that, at luncheon, she had been seated next to one of the
honorary doctors--a naval captain--who had been making discoveries in
the South Sea, and that he had scouted the notion of harm befalling
the Alcestis, and given all manner of reassuring suppositions as to her
detention, adding besides, that no one believed the Australian paper
whence the report was taken. He had seen the Alcestis, knew Captain
Gordon, and spoke of him as one of the safest people in the world. Had
his acquaintance extended to lieutenants and midshipmen, it would have
been perfect; as it was, the tidings brought back the blood to Norman's
cheek, and the light to his eye.

"When do we set off?" was Norman's question.

"At five," said Ethel. "You mean it, papa?"

"I did intend it, if I had gone alone, but I shall not take you till
eight; nor you, Norman, at all."

Norman was bent on returning, but his father and Flora would not hear of
it. Flora could not spare him, and Dr. May was afraid of the effect of
anxiety on nerves and spirits so sensitive. While this was going on,
Mr. Ogilvie looked at Ethel in consternation, and said, "Are you really
going home?"

"Yes, my eldest sister mu