"You are a real little 'good Samaritan,'" she said, "to keep those two
nuisances quiet. The passengers owe you a vote of thanks. It is very sweet
of you, my dear, to sacrifice yourself for others in that way."

Lloyd grew very red. She had not looked upon it as a sacrifice. She had
been amusing herself. But after awhile story-telling did become very
tiresome as a steady occupation. She groaned whenever she saw the boys
coming toward her.

Fidelia joined them on several occasions, but her appearance was always
the signal for a quarrel to begin. Not until one morning when the boys
were locked in their stateroom for punishment, did she have a chance to
speak to Lloyd by herself.

"The boys opened a port-hole this morning," explained Fidelia. "They had
been forbidden to touch it. Poor Beauty was asleep on the couch just under
it, and a big wave sloshed over him and nearly drowned him. He was soaked
through. It gave him a chill, and mamma is in a terrible way about him.
Howl and Henny told Fanchette they wanted him to drown. That's why they
did it. They will be locked up all morning. I should think that you'd be
glad. I don't see how you stand them tagging after you all the time. They
are the meanest boys I ever knew."

"They are not mean to me," said Lloyd. "I can't help feelin' sorry for
them." Then she stopped abruptly, with a blush, feeling that was not a
polite thing to say to the boys' sister.

"I'm sure I don't see why you should feel sorry for them," said Fidelia,
angrily. At which the Little Colonel was more embarrassed than ever. She