of the great vessel, and in the uncertain warmth of the March
sun. Carlton was sitting to leeward of Miss Morris, with a
pipe between his teeth. He was warm, and at peace with the
world. He had found his new acquaintance more than
entertaining. She was even friendly, and treated him as
though he were much her junior, as is the habit of young women
lately married or who are about to be married. Carlton did
not resent it; on the contrary, it made him more at his ease
with her, and as she herself chose to treat him as a youth, he
permitted himself to be as foolish as he pleased.

"I don't know why it is," he complained, peering over the
rail, "but whenever I look over the side to watch the waves a
man in a greasy cap always sticks his head out of a hole below
me and scatters a barrelful of ashes or potato peelings all
over the ocean. It spoils the effect for one. Next time he
does it I am going to knock out the ashes of my pipe on the
back of his neck." Miss Morris did not consider this worthy
of comment, and there was a long lazy pause.

"You haven't told us where you go after London," she said; and
then, without waiting for him to reply, she asked, "Is it your
professional or your social side that you are treating to a
trip this time?"

"Who told you that?" asked Carlton, smiling.

"Oh, I don't know. Some man. He said you were a Jekyll and
Hyde. Which is Jekyll? You see, I only know your
professional side."