might quite properly be termed active service would be accompanied by
no bitter heartburnings and regrets. Rather--yes, many times
rather--would he con a fleet of battle-ships through the tortuous
turnings of Smith Island Sound than again personally conduct one
attractive and impulsive young female through the hotel-strewn shoals
of Europe. There was that German baron in Switzerland, that dashing
young lieutenant of cavalry in Vienna, and that persistent
Englishman--oh, that _persistent_ Englishman!--who turned up
everywhere, and would not be turned down! There was a good deal back
of the cablegram the old gentleman had sent Mrs. Dorn, his sister,
from Southampton, which had read:

Sailing _Caronia_, unentangled, on Wednesday.

"That means only three days more now," mused the admiral, recalling
these words to himself as he came out on the promenade-deck. He stood
there a moment, looking about him, hoping for a glimpse of a slim
young figure. But no sign! His conscience smote him a little. Maybe he
had been somewhat neglectful for the past two days; but then--All at
once he noticed the remarkable change in the weather.

From a foggy, dreary morning it had grown into a crisp, sparkling
afternoon. The long, sweeping seas, the aftermath of some heavy blow
to the northward, had subsided. Passengers who had kept to their
cabins, or who had huddled in the corners of saloon or library, were
emerging on the decks. Those who had braved the weather rather than
face the close air below looked up, mummy-wise, from their swathings
with hopes of returning appetites.

It had needed but a short perusal of the passenger-list to show him