won't grumble any, will they, my dear?"

"I know one who won't," she answered.

The fog grew thicker and thicker; the vessel slowed down, and finally
stopped, sounding every now and then its mournful, timber-shaking
whistle.


EIGHTH DAY.

On the afternoon of the eighth day George Morris and Katherine Earle
stood together on the deck of the tender, looking back at the huge
steamship which they had just left.

"When we return," he said, "I think we shall choose this ship."

"Return?" she answered, looking at him.

"Why, certainly; we are going back, are we not?"

"Dear me," she replied, "I had not thought of that. You see, when I left
America I did not intend to go back."

"Did you not? I thought you were only over here for the trip."

"Oh no. I told you I came on business, not on pleasure."

"And did you intend to stay over here?"