"Well it might!" I thought, for the rush and fall of the waves must be
like a vast requiem to her.

"That is not the effect the sea has upon most people," I said.

"No, I suppose not; it has upon me," she answered. Then smiling at me as
she went on: "You seem to think it is my fault, Mr. Ford, that I do not
love the sea."

"It is your misfortune," I replied, and our eyes met.

I meant nothing by the words, but a shifting, curious look came into her
face, and for the first time since I had been there her eyes fell before
mine.

"I suppose it is," she said, quietly; but from the moment we were never
quite the same again. She watched me curiously, and I knew it.

"Like or dislike, Frances, give way this time," said Lance, "and John
will go with us."

"Do you really wish it?" she asked.

"I should like it; I think it would do us all good. And, after all,
yours is but a fancy, Frances."

"If we go at all," she said, "let us go to the great Northern sea, not
to the South, where it is smiling and treacherous."

"Those southern seas hide much," I said; and again she looked at me with