t made friends with me, even after I discovered that he was,
as I thought, my successful rival. It was impossible to help liking him.
In fact, I've often wondered why--he didn't continue to be my rival."

"Oh, no, Jefferson Craig, you couldn't possibly wonder that!"
contradicted Georgiana, in such a tone of finality that her husband
laughed and told her that flattery could go no farther.

The voyage home was nearly a duplicate of the one outward bound, except
that the two workers put in much extra time on the book and pushed it
well toward completion.

Father Davy acquired the strength to take short walks on an even deck
and boasted hugely of his acquisition, a twinkle in his eye and a tinge
of real colour in his cheek.

"Imagine my coming home from abroad with trunks full of clothes and
books and pictures," murmured Georgiana, as the three stood together
watching the big ship make her port. "I feel like a regular
millionairess."

"A regular one would smile at your modest showing," was Craig's comment.
"I'm quite certain no man ever found it more difficult to persuade his
wife to buy frocks, even when he went with her and expressed his anxiety
to see her in particular colours."

"Confess," demanded Georgiana with spirit, "that you would be
disappointed if I suddenly became a devotee of clothes and wanted all
those gorgeous things we saw, and which that black-eyed Frenchwoman
tried so hard to make me take."

"Those wouldn't have suited you, of course. I don't want to make an
actress of you, or even a society woman who gets her gowns described in
the Sunday papers. But when you refuse simple white frocks with blue
ribbons----"

"Costing three figures! And I could copy every one of those myself for a
fraction of the money."

"What would you do with the money saved?"

"Buy books."

Georgiana and Father Davy exchanged a smiling, tender glance which spoke
of past years of longings now satisfied.

Craig laughed heartily. "Incorrigible little book-lover! Well, it's a
worthy taste. I happened to overhear a comment on your reading the other
day which amused me very much. When you left your steamer chair to walk
with me you left also a copy of _Traditions of the Covenanters_. A
little later, coming up behind that young Edmeston, who spends most of
his time lounging in the chair next yours, I heard him say to a girl:
'She doesn't look such an awful highbrow, but believe _me_, the things
she reads on shipboard when t