little strange that, yesterday, I heard her tell the stewardess she
never took beeftea when she was seasick."

"Oh." Weldon's eyes joined hers on the sky-line. "I have heard of
similar cases before."

"She offered to come on deck," Ethel went on quietly. "It was
generous of her, for she knew I was left entirely alone.
Nevertheless, I persuaded her that she was better off in her berth."

Leaning back in the chair of the absent invalid, Weldon watched his
companion out of the corners of his eyes and rejoiced at the change
in her. Even while he rejoiced, he marvelled. A Canadian by birth
and education, he had rarely come in contact with English girls. At
first, he had been totally at a loss to account for the haughty
chill in the manner of this one. Grown accustomed to that, he was
still more at a loss to account for this sudden awakening into
humanity. He had as yet to learn that two days of having her only
companion seasick, coupled with a sparkling sun and a crisp breeze,
can rouse even a duenna-led English girl to the point of expressing
her opinions pithily and with vigor.

As the Dunottar Castle had slid away from Southampton, three days
before, Weldon had tramped briskly up and down the crowded deck,
taking mental note of his companions for the next two weeks. Among
the caped and capped throng leaning over the rail and staring after
the receding shore with homesick eyes, he saw little to interest
him. Neither did the shore interest him in the least. His own
partings had come, two weeks before, when the steam yacht had put
back from Sandy Hook. Now, accordingly, he went in search of the