was of a peculiarly sanguine temperament that required much to
ruffle, and looked upon the whole matter as a huge joke. It was
this, perhaps, that enabled him to make friends in spite of his
unsociable habits, for the men liked him. As for the women, he
avoided them religiously, with the exception of Mrs. Cortlandt,
whom he saw for an hour or two, morning and afternoon, as well as
at meal-times. With her he got on famously, finding her nearly as
entertaining as a male chum, though he never quite lost his
dislike for her husband. Had she been unmarried and nearer his own
age, their daily intimacy might have caused him to become self-
conscious, but, under the circumstances, no such thought occurred
to him, and he began to look forward with pleasure to their hours
on deck.

The Santa Cruz was four days out before Cortlandt joined them, and
when he did he merely nodded casually to Kirk, then, after
exchanging a polite word or two with his wife, lapsed into his
customary silence, while Mrs. Cortlandt continued her conversation
without a second glance in her husband's direction.

"That's what I call an ideal married couple," Kirk reflected--
"complete understanding, absolute confidence." And the more he saw
of them, the stronger this impression grew. Cortlandt was always
attentive and courteous, without being demonstrative, while his
wife showed a charming graciousness that was plainly unassumed.
Their perfect good-breeding made the young man feel at ease; but
though he endeavored to cultivate the husband on several
occasions, he made little headway. The man evidently possessed a
wide knowledge of current events, a keen understanding of men and
things, yet he never opened up. He listened, smiled, spoke rarely,