to be allowed the use of the room by the plainest allusion to
his relations with Natalie. He could count on the silence of the
sympathizing authorities in this region of the vessel, having wisely
secured them as accomplices by the usual persuasion of the pecuniary
sort. Of the two, however, the stewardess, as a woman, was the more
likely to lend a ready ear to Launce's entreaties in his present
emergency. After a faint show of resistance, she consented, not only to
leave the room, but to keep her husband out of it, on the understanding
that it was not to be occupied for more than ten minutes. Launce made
the signal to Natalie at one door, while the stewardess went out by the
other. In a moment more the lovers were united in a private room. Is it
necessary to say in what language the proceedings were opened? Surely
not! There is an inarticulate language of the lips in use on these
occasions in which we are all proficient, though we sometimes forget it
in later life. Natalie seated herself on a locker. The tea, sugar, and
spices were at her back, a side of bacon swung over her head, and a net
full of lemons dangled before her face. It might not be roomy, but it
was snug and comfortable.

"Suppose they call for the steward?" she suggested. ("Don't, Launce!")

"Never mind. We shall be safe enough if they do. The steward has only to
show himself on deck, and they will suspect nothing."

"Do be quiet, Launce! I have got dreadful news to tell you. And,
besides, my aunt will expect to see me with my braid sewn on again."

She had brought her needle and thread with her. Whipping up the skirt
of her dress on her knee, she bent forward over it, and set herself
industriously to the repair of the torn trimming. In this position her