far away, yet heart yearning with nearness of love. Chester came fully
to himself only when Elder Malby took his arm and together they paced a
few turns around the deck.

That same Sunday evening as Chester stood alone on the promenade deck
watching the moonlight lay as a golden coverlet on the placid sea, his
attention was attracted to the figure of a girl mounting the steps
leading to the deck where he stood. She paused half way as if to rest,
then came slowly up to where he was standing. Her breath came heavily,
and she looked around to find a place to rest. Chester instinctively
took her arm and led her to a deck chair.

"O thank you," said Lucy, "I--my heart bothered me pretty badly that
time. I am forbidden to climb stairs, but I couldn't find you on the
lower deck."

"Did you wish to see me?" asked Chester.

"Yes; I--you'll not think me over bold, will you, but I had to find
you--won't you sit down here--I can't talk very loudly tonight."

Chester drew a chair close to hers. A light wrap clung about her and the
moonlight streamed on head and face. The young man, in the most
matter-of-course-way adjusted the wrap to the girl's shoulders as he
said:

"You are not well, tonight."

"Oh, I'm as well as usual--thank you." She smiled faintly. "Will you
forgive us?"