and bright, it is joyous and wonderful to drift thoughtlessly with the
tide, and rise and fall with the waves. Thus Paul Zalenska and Opal
Ledoux spent that most delightful of voyages on the Lusitania. They were
not often alone. They did not need to be. Their intimacy had at one
bound reached that point when every word and movement teemed with tender
significance and suggestion. Their first note had reached such a high
measure that all the succeeding days followed at concert pitch. It was a
voyage of discovery. Each day brought forth revelations of some new
trait of character--each unfolding that particular something which the
other had always admired.

And so their intimacy grew.

Paul Verdayne saw and smiled. He was glad to see the Boy enjoying
himself. He knew his chances for that sort of thing were all too
pathetically few.

Mr. Ledoux looked on, troubled and perplexed, but he saw no chance, and
indeed no real reason, for interfering.

The Count de Roannes was irritated, at times even provoked, but he kept
his thoughts to himself, hiding his annoyance, and his secret explosions
of "_Au diable!_" beneath his usual urbanity.

There was nothing on the surface to indicate more than the customary
familiarity of young people thrown together for a time, and yet no one
could fail to realize the undercurrent of emotion below the gaiety of
the daily ripple of amusement and pleasurable excitement and converse.

They read together, they exchanged experiences of travel, they discussed