"I wish you would."

So with that he took his place at the head of the small table, and had
the indignant young lady at his right hand.

"There ought to be a master of ceremonies," began Morris with some
hesitation, "to introduce people to each other on board a steamship. As
it is, however, people have to get acquainted as best they may. My name
is Morris, and, unless I am mistaken, you are Miss Katherine Earle. Am I
right?"

"You are right about my name," answered the young lady, "I presume you
ought to be about your own."

"Oh, I can prove that," said Morris, with a smile. "I have letters to
show, and cards and things like that."

Then he seemed to catch his breath as he remembered there was also a
young woman on board who could vouch that his name was George Morris.
This took him aback for a moment, and he was silent. Miss Earle made no
reply to his offer of identification.

"Miss Earle," he said hesitatingly at last, "I wish you would permit
me to apologise to you if I am as culpable as I imagine. _Did_ I run
against your chair and break it?"

"Do you mean to say," replied the young lady, looking at him steadily,
"that you do not _know_ whether you did or not?"

"Well, it's a pretty hard thing to ask a person to believe, and yet I