wished it were not there.

Margaret was sure she could distinguish his heavy step from Griggs's
when he was near her, but she would not look up from her book till he
stopped and spoke to her.

'Good-morning, Madame Cordova; how are you this morning?' he inquired,
holding out his hand. 'You didn't expect to see me on board, did you?'

His tone was hard and business-like, but he lifted his yachting cap
politely as he held out his hand. Margaret hesitated a moment before
taking it, and when she moved her own he was already holding his out
to Miss More.

'Good-morning, Miss More; how are you this morning?'

Miss More leaned forward and put down one foot as if she would have
risen in the presence of the great man, but he pushed her back by her
hand which he held, and proceeded to shake hands with the little girl.

'Good-morning, Miss Ida; how are you this morning?'

Margaret felt sure that if he had shaken hands with a hundred people
he would have repeated the same words to each without any variation.
She looked at Griggs imploringly, and glanced at his vacant chair on
her right side. He did not answer by sitting down, because the action
would have been too like deliberately telling Mr. Van Torp to go away,
but he began to fold up the chair as if he were going to take it away,
and then he seemed to find that there was something wrong with one of
its joints, and altogether it gave him a good deal of trouble, and