The minister and his daughter got into their places more actively that
morning. Chester wished heartily that his seat was not opposite. She was
at too close range to allow of any careful observation. He could not
very well help looking across the table, neither could she, although she
had her father to talk to. Chester was really glad when breakfast was
over that morning, and they all filed up to the sun-lit deck again.

Had Chester been a smoker, he would no doubt have taken consolation in a
pipe with the majority of the men; but as it was, he withdrew as much as
possible from others that he might think matters over and get to a
proper footing; for truth to tell, he was in danger of falling in love
again, and that, he said to himself, would never do. He avoided even
Elder Malby that morning; but to do so he had to go down to the main
deck forward out to the prow. He went to the extreme point, where from
behind the closed railing he could stand as a look-out into the eastern
sea. Gently and slowly the vessel rose and fell as it plowed through the
long, gleaming undulations.

"What am I coming to," said Chester half-aloud as if the sea might hear
and answer him. "Here I am running away from one heart entanglement only
to go plump into another. She is not Julia, of course, but she has
Julia's twin soul. A perfect stranger, an acquaintance of two days! The
daughter of a minister, a minister of the world!" What was he thinking
of? Who were they? He did not even know her name. She was not a well
girl, that he could see. The roses in her cheeks were not altogether
natural and her face was pale; but those red lips, and that smile when
turned to him! Well, the voyage was half over. Another four or five days
and they would be in Liverpool, where they would go their different ways
forever. He must keep away from her that long, seeing there was danger.