tted triumphs, ending in a preposterous and
wholly superfluous self-sacrifice.

March laughed for pleasure in her guess, and she pursued, "I suppose you
didn't waste time looking if anybody had brought the last copy of 'Every
Other Week'?"

"Yes, I did; and I found the one you had left in your steamer chair--for
advertising purposes, probably."

"Mr. Burnamy has another," she said. "I saw it sticking out of his pocket
this morning."

"Oh, yes. He told me he had got it on the train from Chicago to see if it
had his poem in it. He's an ingenuous soul--in some ways."

"Well, that is the very reason why you ought to find out whether the men
are going to dress, and let him know. He would never think of it
himself."

"Neither would I," said her husband.

"Very well, if you wish to spoil his chance at the outset," she sighed.

She did not quite know whether to be glad or not that the men were all in
sacks and cutaways at dinner; it saved her, from shame for her husband
and Mr. Burnamy; but it put her in the wrong. Every one talked; even the
father and daughter talked with each other, and at one moment Mrs. March
could not be quite sure that the daughter had not looked at her when she
spoke. She could not be mistaken in the remark which the father addressed
to Burnamy, though it led to nothing.

XII.

The dinner was uncommonly good, as the first dinner out is apt to be; and
it went gayly on from soup to fruit, which was of the American abundance
and variety, and as yet not of the veteran freshness imparted by the
ice-closet. Everybody was eating it, when by a common consciousness they
were aware of alien witnesses. They looked up as by a single impulse, and
saw at the port the gaunt face of a steerage passenger staring down upon
their luxury; he held on his arm a child that shared his regard with yet
hungrier eyes. A boy's nose showed itself as if tiptoed to the height of
the man's elbow; a young girl peered over his other arm.

The passengers glanced at one another; the two table-stewards, with their
napkins in their hands, smiled vaguely, and made some indefinite
movements.

The bachelor at the head of the table broke the spell. "I'm glad it
didn't begin with the Little Neck clams!"

"Probably they only let those people come for the dessert," March
suggested.

The widow now followed the direction of the other eyes; and looked up
over her shoulder; she gave a little cry, and shrank down. The young
brid