and preoccupied, addressing a word now and then to Mr. Watterson, who,
by virtue of what was apparently the ship's discipline, spoke only
when he was spoken to, and then answered with prompt acquiescence.
Dunham and Staniford exchanged not so much a glance as a consciousness
in regard to him, which seemed to recognize and class him. They talked
to each other, and sometimes to the captain. Once they spoke to Lydia.
Mr. Dunham, for example, said, "Miss--ah--Blood, don't you think we
are uncommonly fortunate in having such lovely weather for a
start-off?"

"I don't know," said Lydia.

Mr. Dunham arrested himself in the use of his fork. "I beg your
pardon?" he smiled.

It seemed to be a question, and after a moment's doubt Lydia answered,
"I didn't know it was strange to have fine weather at the start."

"Oh, but I can assure you it is," said Dunham, with a certain
lady-like sweetness of manner which he had. "According to precedent,
we ought to be all deathly seasick."

"Not at _this_ time of year," said Captain Jenness.

"Not at this time of _year_," repeated Mr. Watterson, as if
the remark were an order to the crew.

Dunham referred the matter with a look to his friend, who refused
to take part in it, and then he let it drop. But presently Staniford
himself attempted the civility of some conversation with Lydia. He