of them as could possibly be desirable. He actually persuaded
himself to say that it was lovely to see the reflections of life in
her tranquil spirit; and when I looked at him incredulously he grew
angry, and hinted that Cecily's sensitiveness to reflections and
other things might be a trifle beyond her mother's ken. 'She
responds instantly, intimately, to the beautiful everywhere,' he
declared.

'Aren't the opportunities of life on board ship rather limited to
demonstrate that?' I inquired. 'I know--you mean sunsets. Cecily
is very fond of sunsets. She is always asking me to come and look
at them.'

'I was thinking of last night's sunset,' he confessed. 'We looked
at it together.'

'What did she say?' I asked idly.

'Nothing very much. That's just the point. Another girl would have
raved and gushed.'

'Oh, well, Cecily never does that,' I responded. 'Nevertheless she
is a very ordinary human instrument. I hope I shall have no
temptation ten years hence to remind you that I warned you of her
quality.'

'I wish, not in the least for my own profit, for I am well convinced
already, but simply to win your cordiality and your approval--never
did an unexceptional wooer receive such niggard encouragement!--I
wish there were some sort of test for her quality. I would be proud