to her when she had met him, and she freely conceded him the right to
be occupied with his own thoughts and not with hers. With him she was
always Margaret Donne, and he seldom talked to her about music, or of
her own work. Indeed, he so rarely mentioned music that she fancied he
did not really care for it, and she wondered why he was so often in
the house when she sang.

Mr. Van Torp did not show himself at luncheon, and Margaret began to
hope that he would not appear on deck again till the next day. In
the afternoon the wind dropped, the clouds broke, and the sun shone
brightly. Little Ida, who was tired of doing crochet work, and had
looked at all the books that had pictures, came and begged Margaret to
walk round the ship with her. It would please her small child's vanity
to show everybody that the great singer was willing to be seen walking
up and down with her, although she was quite deaf, and could not hope
ever to hear music. It was her greatest delight to be treated before
every one as if she were just like other girls, and her cleverness in
watching the lips of the person with her, without seeming too intent,
was wonderful.

They went the whole length of the promenade deck, as if they were
reviewing the passengers, bundled and packed in their chairs, and the
passengers looked at them both with so much interest that the child
made Margaret come all the way back again.

'The sea has a voice, too, hasn't it?' Ida asked, as they paused and
looked over the rail.

She glanced up quickly for the answer, but Margaret did not find one
at once.