world had, in fact, accepted the Honourable Mrs. Harrington because
she could afford to gild herself.

"It was bad luck, and nothing else," burst out Fitz, heedless of her
sarcastic tones. "Luke is a better sailor than I am. But he always
was weak in his astronomy, and it all turned on astronomy."

"I should imagine it all turned on stupidity," said Mrs. Harrington.

"I'm stupid, if you like," said Fitz; "Luke isn't. Luke is clever;
ask any chap on board!"

"I do not need to ask any chap on board," said Mrs. Harrington. "My
own common sense tells me that he is clever. He has proved it."

"It's like a woman--to hit a fellow when he's down," said Luke, with
his hands deep in his pockets.

He turned to Mrs. Ingham-Baker for sympathy in this sentiment, and
that soft-hearted lady deemed it expedient to turn hastily away,
avoiding his glance, denying all partisanship.

Mrs. Ingham-Baker was not a person given to the disguise of her own
feelings. She was plausible enough to the outer world. To herself
she was quite frank, and hardly seemed to recognise this as the
event she had most desired. It is to be presumed that her heart was
like her physical self, a large, unwieldy thing, over which she had
not a proper control. The organ mentioned had a way of tripping her
up. It tripped her now, and she quite forgot that this quarrel was
precisely what she had wanted for years. She had looked forward to