castles that stood on either bank of the entrance to the harbour.

Mrs. Pendean spoke.

"All this loveliness and peace seem to make my heart more sore. When
people suffer, they should go where nature suffers too--to bleak,
sad regions."

"You must occupy yourself. You must try to lose yourself in work--in
working your fingers to the bone if need be. There is nothing like
mental and physical toil at a time of suffering."

"That is only a drug. You might as well drink, or take opium. I
wouldn't run away from my grief if I could. I owe it to the dead."

"You are not a coward. You must live and make the world happier for
your life."

She smiled for the first time--a flicker, that lightened her beauty
for a moment and quickly died.

"You are good and kind and wise," she answered. Then she changed the
subject and pointed to the man in the bows. He sat upright with his
back to them at the wheel forward. He had taken off his hat and was
singing very gently to himself, but hardly loud enough to be heard
against the drone of the engines. His song was from an early opera
of Verdi.

"Have you noticed that man?"