furry coat drawn hurriedly on over her pretty evening frock, her dark
hair lightly confined under a gauzy scarf, she with Craig and a merry
half-dozen of the evening's group came up again upon a deserted deck,
to "blow the society fog out of their lungs," as one young biologist of
coming reputation put it, in the silvery April moonlight, with only a
few similarly inclined spirits to share with them the big empty spaces.

"I shall really be sorry to land to-morrow," sighed Georgiana, leaning
upon the rail on the last night of the voyage, and staring ahead toward
the quarter where her husband had just indicated they would be seeing
land when they came up in the morning. "It has been so perfect, this
being off between the sea and the sky together. When shall I ever forget
this first voyage? It's a dream come true."

"You will enjoy the second one just as much, for you're a born sailor,
and there'll be a long succession of voyages for you to look back upon
by and by. Not just my annual pilgrimages to foreign clinics, but
journeys to the ends of the earth if you like. Will that suit you,
eager-eyed one?"

"Suit me? Oh, wonderful to think of! Am I eager-eyed really? I try so
hard to cultivate that beautiful calm of manner I admire so much in
other people. Haven't I acquired a bit of it yet?"

"A beautiful calm of manner--all that could be desired. But your eyes
still suggest that you're standing on tiptoe, with your face lighted by
the dawn," Craig answered contentedly. "Heaven forbid you ever lose that
look! It's what gives the zest to my life."

CHAPTER XXVII

"CAKES AND ICES"

Jefferson Craig found plenty of the zest which he had told
Georgiana--that last evening on shipboard--her eager-eyed look added to
his life, when, the next day, in a compartment reserved for the three
travelers, he watched her as she fairly hung out of the windows. All
through Devonshire and on to the northeast. She was drinking in the fair
and ordered beauty of the English countryside in April, exclaiming over
apple orchards rosy as sea-shells with bloom, over vine-clad cottages
and hedge-bordered lanes, masses of wall flowers at each trim station,
and such green fields as she had never seen in her life. Father Davy was
not far behind her in his quiet enjoyment of the unaccustomed scenes.

A night at Bath, picturesque and interesting, and then before the eldest
of the three travelers could be really weary they were in famous Oxford.