[Illustration: "GOOD-NIGHT, " SHE SAID, "AND--THANK YOU"]

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LITTLE MISS GROUCH

A Narrative Based Upon ThePrivate Log OfAlexander Forsyth Smith'sMaiden TransatlanticVoyage

BySamuel Hopkins Adams

With Illustrations by R. M. Crosby

BOSTON AND NEW YORKHOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANYThe Riverside Press Cambridge1915

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COPYRIGHT, 1914 AND 1915, BY THE BUTTERICK PUBLISHING COMPANYCOPYRIGHT, 1915, BY SAMUEL HOPKINS ADAMS

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Published September 1915

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ILLUSTRATIONS

"Good-night, " she said, "and--thank you"(page 129) Frontispiece

"Aren't you going to speak to me?" 38

Surprise held the Tyro's tongue in leash 52

"Oh, look at that adorable baby!" 74

"Couldn't you lend me five dollars?" 112

Her knight keeping watch over her 144

The Tyro curled his legs under him 166

"You've come through, my boy" 206

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LITTLE MISS GROUCH

I

 First day out. Weather horrible, uncertain and squally, but interesting Developments promised Feel fine. 

 SMITH'S LOG. 

Several tugs were persuasively nudging the Clan Macgregor out from herpier. Beside the towering flanks of the sea-monster, newest and biggestof her species, they seemed absurdly inadequate to the job. But theymade up for their insignificance by self-important and fussy puffingsand pipings, while, like an elephant harried by terriers, the vast massslowly swung outward toward the open. From the pier there arose acomposite clamor of farewell. 

The Tyro gazed down upon this lively scene with a feeling of loneliness. No portion of the ceremonial of parting appertained personally to him. He had had his fair fraction in the form of a crowd of enthusiasticfriends who came to see him off on his maiden voyage. They, however, retired early, acting as escort to his tearful mother and sister who hadgiven way to uncontrollable grief early in the proceedings, on a theoryheld, I believe, by the generality of womankind in the face ofconsiderable evidence to the contrary, that a first-time voyager seldomif ever comes back alive. Lacking individual attention, the Tyro decidedto appropriate a share of the communal. Therefore he bowed and wavedindiscriminately, and was distinctly cheered up by a point-blank smileand handkerchief flutter from a piquant brunette who liked his looks. Most people liked his looks, particularly women. 

In the foreground of the dock was an individual who apparently didn't. He was a fashionable and frantic oldish-young man, who had burst throughthe barrier and now jigged upon the pier-head in a manner notcountenanced by the Society for Standardizing Ballroom Dances. Atintervals he made gestures toward the Tyro as if striving, againstunfair odds of distance, to sweep him from the surface of creation. Asthe Tyro had never before set eyes upon him, this was surprising. Thesolution of the mystery came from the crowd, close-pressed about theTyro. It took the form of an unmistakable sniffle, and it somehowcontrived to be indubitably and rather pitifully feminine. The Tyroturned. 

At, or rather underneath, his left shoulder, and trying to peep over orpast it, he beheld a small portion of a most woe-begone little face, heavily swathed against the nipping March wind. Through the becloudingveil he could dimly make out that the eyes were swollen, the cheeks weremottled; even the nose--with regret I state it--was red and puffy. Anunsightly, melancholy little spectacle to which the Tyro's young heartwent out in prompt pity. It had a habit of going out in friendly andhelpful wise to forlorn and unconsidered people, to the kind of folkthat nobody else had time to bother about. 

"What a mess of a face, poor kiddy!" said the Tyro to himself. 

From the mess came another sniffle and then a gurgle. The Tyro, with alithe movement of his body, slipped aside from his position of vantage, and the pressure of the crowd brought the girl against the rail. Thereupon the Seven Saltatory Devils possessing the frame of the franticand fashionable dock-dancer deserted it, yielding place to a demon ofvocality. 

"I think he's calling to you, " said the Tyro in the girl's ear. 

The girl shook her head with a vehemence which imparted not so muchdenial as an "I-don't-care-if-he-is" impression. 

Stridently sounded the voice of distress from the pier. "Pilot-boat, " ityelled, and repeated it. "Pilot! Pilot! Come--back--pilot-boat. "

Again the girl shook her head, this time so violently that herhair--soft, curly, luxuriant hair--loosened and clouded about herforehead and ears. In a voice no more than a husky, tremulous whisper, which was too low even to be intended to carry across the wideningwater-space, and therefore manifestly purposed for the establishment ofher own conviction, she said:

"I wo-won't. I _won't_. I WON'T!!!" At the third declaration she broughta saber-edged heel down square upon the most afflicted toe of a verysore foot which the Tyro had been nursing since a collision in thesquash court some days previous. Involuntarily he uttered a cry ofanguish, followed by a monosyllabic quotation from the originalAnglo-Saxon. The girl turned upon him a baleful face, while thelong-distance conversationalist on the dock reverted to his originalpossession and faded from sight in a series of involuted spasms. 

"_What_ did you say?" she demanded, still in that hushed and catchyvoice. 

"'Hell, '" repeated the Tyro, in a tone of explication, "'is paved withgood intentions. ' It's a proverb. "

"I know that as well as you do, " she whispered resentfully. "But whathas that to do with--with me?"

"Lord! What a vicious little spitfire it is, " said he to himself. Then, aloud: "It was my good intention to remove that foot and substitute theother one, which is better able to sustain--"

"Was that your foot I stepped on?"

"It _was_. It is now a picturesque and obsolete ruin. "

"It had no right to be there. "

"But that's where I've always kept it, " he protested, "right at the endof that leg. "

"If you want me to say I'm sorry, I won't, I _won't_--I--"

"Help!" cried the Tyro. "One more of those 'won'ts' and I'm a cripplefor life. "

There was a convulsive movement of the features beneath the heavy veil, which the Tyro took to be the beginning of a smile. He was encouraged. The two young people were practically alone now, the crowd having movedforward for sight of a French liner sweeping proudly up the river. Thegirl turned her gaze upon the injured member. 

"Did I really hurt you much?" she asked, still whispering. 

"Not a bit, " lied the Tyro manfully. "I just made that an excuse to getyou to talk. "

"Indeed!" The head tilted up, furnishing to the Tyro the distinctmoulding, under the blurring fabric, of a determined and resentful chin. "Well, I can't talk. I can only whisper. "

"Sore throat?"

"No. "

"Well, it's none of my business, " conceded the Tyro. "But you ratherlooked as if--as if you were in trouble, and I thought perhaps I couldhelp you. "

"I don't want any help. I'm all right. " To prove which she began to cryagain. 

The Tyro led her over to a deck-chair and made her sit down. "Of courseyou are. You just sit there and think how all-right you are for fiveminutes and then you _will_ be all right. "

"But I'm not going back. Never! Never!! _Nev-ver!!!_"

"Certainly not, " said the Tyro soothingly. 

"You speak to me as if I were a child!"

"So you are--almost. "

"That's what they all think at home. That's why I'm--I'm running awayfrom them, " she wailed, in a fresh access of self-commiseration. 

"Running away! To Europe?"

"Where did you think this ship was bound for?"

"But--all alone?" queried the other, thunderstruck. 

"All alone?" She contrived to inform her whisper with a maliciousmimicry of his dismay. "I suppose the girls you know take the wholefamily along when they run away. Idiot!"

"Go ahead!" he encouraged her. "Take it out on me. Relieve yourfeelings. You can't hurt mine. "

"I haven't even got a maid with me, " mourned the girl. "She got left. F-f-father will have a fu-fu-fit!"

"Father was practicing for it, according to my limited powers ofobservation, when last seen. "

"What! Where did you see him?"

"Wasn't it father who was giving the commendable imitation of a whirlingdervish on the pier-head?"

"Heavens, no! That's the--the man I'm running away from. "

"The plot thickens. I thought it was your family you were eluding. "

"Everybody! Everything! And I'm _never_ coming back. There's no way theycan get me now, is there?"

A reiterated word of the convulsive howler on the dock had stuck in theTyro's mind. "What about the pilot-boat?"

"Oh! Could they? What shall I do? I _won't_ go back. I'll jump overboardfirst. And you do nothing but stand there like a ninny. "

"Many thanks, gentle maiden, " returned her companion, unperturbed, "forthis testimonial of confidence and esteem. With every inclination to aidand abet any crime or misdemeanor within reach, I nevertheless think Iought to be let in on the secret before I commit myself finally. "

"It--it's that Thing on the dock. "

"So you led me to infer. "

"He wants to marry me. "

"Well, America is the land of boundless ambitions, " observed the youngman politely. 

"But they'll make me marry him if I stay, " came the half-strangledwhisper. "I'm engaged to him, I tell you. "

"No; you didn't tell me anything of the sort. Why, he's old enough to beyour father. "

"Older!" she asseverated spitefully. "And hatefuller than he is old. "

"Why do such a thing?"

"I didn't do it. "

"Then he did it all himself? I thought it took two to make anengagement. "

"It does. Father was the other one. "

"Oh! Father is greatly impressed with our acrobatic friend's eligibilityas son-in-law?"

"Well, of course, he's got plenty of money, and a splendid position, andall that. And I--I--I didn't exactly say 'No. ' But when I saw it in thenewspapers, all spread out for everybody to read--"

"Hello! It got into the papers, did it?"

"Yesterday morning. Father put it in; I _know_ he did. I cried allnight, and this morning I had Marie pack my things, and I made a rushfor this old ship, and they didn't have anything for me but a stuffylittle hole 'way down in the hold somewhere, and I wish I were dead!"

"Oh, cheer up!" counseled the Tyro. "I've got an awfully decentstateroom--123 D, and if you want to change--"

"Why, I'm 129 D. That's the same kind of room in the same passage. Doyou call _that_ fit to live in?"

Now the Tyro is a person of singularly equable temperament. But to havean offer which he had made only with self-sacrificing effort thuscavalierly received by a red-nosed, blear-eyed, impudent littlechittermouse (thus, I must reluctantly admit, did he mentallycharacterize his new acquaintance), was just a bit too much. 

"You don't have to accept the offer, you know, " he assured her. "I onlymade it to be offensive. And as I've apparently been successful beyondmy fondest hopes, I will now waft myself away. "

There was some kind of struggle in which the lachrymose maiden's wholeanatomy seemed involved, and then a gloved hand went out appealingly. 

"Meaning that you're sorry?" inquired the Tyro sternly. 

Some sounds there are which elude the efforts of the mostonomatopoeic pen. Still, as nearly as may be--

"Buh!" said the damsel. "Buh--huh--_huh!_"

"Oh, in that case. " The Tyro turned back. 

There was a long pause, while the girl struggled for self-command, during which her squire had time to observe with some surprise that shehad a white glove on her left hand and a tan one on her right, and thather apparel seemed to have been put on without due regard to thecardinal points of the compass. Through the veil she perceived andinterpreted his appraisal. 

"I'm a dowdy frump!" she lamented, half-voiced. "I dressed myself whileMarie was packing. But you needn't be so--so supercilious about it. "

"I'm not, " protested he, conscience-stricken. 

"You are! When you look at me that way I hate you! I'm not sorry I wasnasty to you. I'm glad! I wish I'd been nastier!"

The Tyro bent upon her a fascinated but baleful regard. "Angel child, "said he in sugared accents, "appease my curiosity. Answer me onequestion. "

"I won't. What is it?"

"Did you ever have your ears boxed?"

"Never!" she said indignantly. 

"I thought as much. "

"You'd like to do it, perhaps. "

"I'd love to. It would do me--I mean you--so much good. "

"Maybe I'll let you if you'll help me get away. I know they'll find me!"At the prospect the melancholy one once more abandoned herself to thetragedy of existence. "And you don't do a thing but m-m-make fu-fu-funof me. "

Contrition softened the heart of the Tyro. "Oh, look here, Niobe, " hebegan. 

"My name _isn't_ Niobe!"

"Well, your nature's distinctly Niobish. I've got to call yousomething. "

"You haven't! You haven't got to ever speak to me again. They'll findme, and catch me, and send me back, and I'll marry that--that_Creature_, if that's what you want. "

This was the _argumentum ad hominem_ with a vengeance. "_I_ want? Whaton earth have I got to do with it?"

"Nothing! Nobody has anything to do with it. Nobody gives a--a--a _darn_for me. Oh, I wish I were back home!"

"Now you're talking sense. The pilot-boat is your play. "

"Oh! And you said you'd help me. " And then the last barrier gave way, and the floods swept down and immersed speech for the moment. 

"Oh, come! Brace up, little girl. " His voice was all kindness now. "Ifyou're really bound to get away--"

"I am, " came the muffled voice. 

"But have you got any place to go?"

"Yes. "

"Where?"

"My married sister's in London. "

"Truly?"

"I can show you a cablegram if you don't believe me. "

"That's all right, then. I'll take a chance. Now for one deep, dark, anddeadly plot. If the pilot-boat is after you, they'll look up your nameand cabin on the passenger list. "

"I didn't give my real name. "

"Oho! Well, your father might wire a description. "

"It's just the kind of thing he would do. "

"Therefore you'd better change your clothes. "

"No. I'd better not. This awful mess is a regular disguise for me. "

"And if you could contrive to stop crying--"

"I'm going to cry, " said the young lady, with conviction, "all the wayover. "

"You'll be a cheerful little shipmate!"

"Don't you concern yourself about that, " she retorted. "After the pilotleaves, you needn't have me on your mind at all. "

"Thank you. Well, suppose you join me over in yonder secluded corner ofthe deck in about two hours. Is there anybody on board that knows you?"

"How do I know? There might be. "

"Then stay out of the way, and keep muffled up as you are now. Your ownmother wouldn't recognize you through that veil. In fact I don't supposeI'd know you myself, but for your voice. "

"Oh, I don't always whisper. But if I try to talk out loud my throatgets funny and I want to c-c-cry--"

"Quit it! Stop. Brace up, now. We'll bluff the thing through somehow. Just leave it to me and don't worry. "

"And now, " queried the Tyro of himself, as he watched the forlorn littlefigure out of sight, "what have I let myself in for this time?"

With a view to gathering information about the functions, habits, andcapacities of a pilot-boat, he started down to the office and was seizedupon the companionway by a grizzled and sunbaked man of fifty whogreeted him joyously. 

"Sandy! Is it yourself? Well met to you!"

"Hello, Dr. Alderson, " returned the young man with warmth. "Going over?What luck for me!"

"Why? Need a chaperon?"

"A cicerone, anyway. It's my first trip, and I don't know a soulaboard. "

"Oh, you'll know plenty before we're over. A maiden voyager is a sort ofpet aboard ship, particularly if he's an unattached youth. My first wasthirty years ago. This is my twenty-seventh. "

"You must know all about ships, then. Tell me about the pilot. "

"What about him? He's usually a gay old salt who hasn't been out ofsight of land for--"

"That isn't what I want to know. Does he take people back with him?"

"Hello! What's this? Don't want to back out already, do you?"

"No. It isn't I. "

"Somebody want to go back? That's easily arranged. "

"No. They don't want to go back. Not if they can help it. But could wordbe got to the pilot to take any one off?"

"Oh, yes. If it were sent in time. A telegram to Quarantine would gethim, up to an hour or so after we cast off. What's the mystery, Sandy?"

"Tell you later. Thanks, ever so much. "

"I'll have you put at my table, " called the other after him, as hedescended the broad companionway. 

So the pilot-boat scheme was feasible, then. If the unknown weeper'sfather had prompt notice--from the disciple of Terpsichore, forexample--he might get word to the pilot and institute a search. Meditating upon the appearance and behavior of the dock-dancer, the Tyrodecided that he'd go to any lengths to see the thing through just forthe pleasure of frustrating him. 

"Though what on earth he wants to marry her for, _I_ don't see, " hethought. "She ought to marry an undertaker. "

And he sat down to write his mother a pilot-boat letter, assuring herthat he had thus far survived the perils of the deep and had alreadyfound a job as knight-errant to the homeliest and most lugubrious girlon the seven seas. At the warning call for the closing of the mails hehastened to the rendezvous on deck. She was there before him, stillmuffled up, still swollen of feature, and still, as he indignantly putit to himself, "blubbering. "

Meantime there had reached the giant ship Clan Macgregor a messagesigned by a name of such power that the whole structure officiallythrilled to it from top to bottom. The owner of the name demanded theinstant return, intact and in good order, C. O. D. , of a valuabledaughter, preferably by pilot-boat, but, if necessary, by running theship aground and sending said daughter ashore in a breeches-buoy, or byturning back and putting into dock again. In this assumption there wasperhaps some hyperbole. But it was obvious from the stir of officialdomthat the signer of the demand wanted his daughter very much and wasaccustomed to having his wants respectfully carried out. One feature ofthe message would have convinced the Tyro, had he seen it, of thefatuity of fatherhood. It described the fugitive as "very pretty. "

The search was thorough, rigid, and quite unavailing. The reason why itwas unavailing was this: At the moment when that portion of the chase towhich the promenade deck was apportioned, consisting of the secondofficer, the purser, and two stewards, approached the secluded nookwhere the Tyro stood guardian above the feminine Fount of Tears, theybeheld and heard only a young man admonishing a stricken girl inunmistakably fraternal terms:

"Now, Amy, you might just as well stop that sniveling. [The Tyro wastaking a bit of revenge on the side. ] You can't change your stateroom. There isn't another to be had on board. And if it's good enough forMother, I think it ought to be good enough for you. Do have somegumption, Amy, and cut out the salty-tear business. Come on down andeat. "

The pursuit passed on, and an hour later the pilot-boat chugged awaypassengerless; for even the mightiest cannot hold indefinitely an oceanliner setting out after a possible record. Almost at the moment that theman of power received a message stating positively that his daughter wasnot on the Clan Macgregor that perverse little person was saying to herpreserver, who--foolish youth--had expected some expression ofappreciation:--

"What do you mean by calling me Amy? I _hate_ the name. "

"Short for 'amiability, ' your most obvious quality. "

"You're a perfect _pig_!" retorted the lady with conviction. 

The Tyro made her a low bow. "Oh, pattern of all the graces, " said he, "I accept and appreciate the appellation. The pig is a praiseworthycharacter. The pig suffereth long and is kind. The pig is humble, pious, a home-lover and a home-stayer. You never heard of a pig changing hisheart and running away across the seas on twelve hours' notice, becausethings didn't go exactly to suit him. Did you, now? The pig is mild oftemper and restrained of speech. He always thinks twice before hegrunts. To those that use him gently the pig is friendly andaffectionate. Gratitude makes its home in that soft bosom. Well has thepoet sung:--

 "How rarer than a serpent's tooth It is to find a thankless pig!

"The pig does not grouch nor snap nor stamp upon the feet of thedefenseless. Finally and above all, he does not give way to uselesstears and make red the lovely pinkness of his shapely nose. Proud am Ito be dubbed the Perfect Pig. "

"_Oh!_" said the tearful damsel, and potential murder informed themonosyllable. 

"See here, " said the Tyro persuasively: "tell me, why are you so crosswith me?"

"Because you pitied me. "

"Anybody would. You look so helpless and miserable. "

"I'm not muh-muh-miserable!"

"I beg your pardon. Of course you're not. Any one could see that. "

"I _am_. But I don't care. I _won't_ be pitied. How dare you pity me! Ihate people that--that go around pitying other people. "

"I'll promise never to do it again. Only spare my life this time. NowI'm going to go away and stop bothering you. But if you find thingsgetting too dull for you during the voyage, I'll be around somewherewithin call. Good-bye, and good luck. "

A little hand went out to him--impulsively. 

"I _am_ sorry, " came the whisper--it was almost free of tragic effectthis time--"and I really think you--you're rather a dear. "

The Tyro marched away in the righteous consciousness of having done hisfull duty by helpless and unattractive girlhood. The girl retiredpresently to her cabin, and made a fair start on her announced policy ofcrying all the way from America to Europe. When, however, the ship metwith a playful little cross-sea and began to bobble and weave and splashabout in the manner of our top-heavy leviathans of travel, she wasimpelled to take thought of her inner self, and presently sought thefresh and open air of the deck lest a worse thing befall her. There in asheltered angle she snuggled deep in her chair, and presently, braced bythe vivifying air, was by way of almost enjoying herself. And thitherfate drove the Tyro, with relentless purpose, into her clutches. 

With his friend Alderson, who had retrieved him late in the afternoonafter he had unpacked, the Tyro was making rather uncertain weather ofit along the jerking deck, when an unusually abrupt buck-jump executedby the Macgregor sent him reeling up against the cabin rail at the anglebehind which the girl sheltered. 

"Let's stop here for a minute, " panted Alderson. "Haven't got mysea-legs yet. " There was a pause. "Did I see you making yourselfagreeable to a young person of the dangerous sex a couple of hours ago?"

"Agreeable? Well, judging by results, no. I doubt if Chesterfieldhimself could have made himself agreeable to Little Miss Grouch. "

"Miss _Who_?"

"Little Miss Grouch. Don't know her real name. But that's good enoughfor descriptive purposes. She's the crossest little patch that ever grewup without being properly spanked. "

"Where did you run across her?"

"Oh, she wrecked my pet toe with a guillotine heel because I ventured tosympathize with her. "

"Oh, " commented the experienced Alderson. "Sympathy isn't in much demandwhen one is seasick. "

"It wasn't seasickness. It was weeps for the vanished fatherland; suchblubbery weeps! Poor little girl!" mused the Tyro. "She isn't muchbigger than a minute, and _so_ forlorn, and _so_ red-nosed, and _so_homely, you couldn't help but--"

At this moment a drunken stagger on the part of the ship slewed thespeaker halfway around. He found himself looking down upon asteamer-chair, wherein lay a bundle swathed in many rugs. From thatbundle protruded a veiled face and the outline of a swollen nose, abovewhich a pair of fixed eyes blazed, dimmed but malevolent, into his. 

"Er--ah--oh, " said the Tyro, moving hastily away. "If you'll excuse me Ithink I'll just step over the rail and speak to a fish I used to know. "

"What's the matter?" inquired Alderson suspiciously, following him. "Notalready!"

"Oh, no. Not that. Worse. That bundle almost under our feet when Ispoke--that was Little Miss Grouch. "

Alderson took a furtive glance. "She's all mummied up, " he suggested;"maybe she didn't hear. "

"Oh, yes, she did. Trust my luck for that. And I said she was homely. And she is. Oh, Lord, I wouldn't have hurt her poor little feelings foranything. "

"Don't you be too sure about her being so homely. Any woman looks afright when she's all bunged up from crying. "

"What's the difference?" said the Tyro miserably. "A pretty girl don'tlike to be called homely any more than a homely one. "

"There's where you're off, my son, " returned Alderson. "She can summonher looking-glass as a witness in rebuttal. "

"Anyway, I've put my foot in it up to the knee!"

"Oh, go up to-morrow when she's feeling better and tell her you weretalking about the ship's cat. "

"I'd show better sense by keeping out of her way altogether. "

"You'll never be able to do that, " said the sea-wise Alderson. "Try toavoid any one on shipboard and you'll bump into that particular personeverywhere you go, from the engine-room to the forepeak. Ten to one shesits next to you at table. "

"I'll have my seat changed, " cried the other in panic. "I'll eat in mycabin. I'll fast for the week. "

"You be a game sport and I'll help you out, " promised his friend. "Allhands to repel boarders! Here she comes!"

Little Miss Grouch bore down upon them with her much-maligned nose inthe air. As she maneuvered to pass, the ship, which had reached theclimax of its normal roll to port, paused, and then decided to go acouple of degrees farther; in consequence of which the young lady fledwith a stifled cry of fury straight into the Tyro's waiting arms. Alderson, true to his promise, extracted her, set her on her way, andturned anxiously to his young friend. 

"Did she bite you?" he inquired solicitously. 

"No. You grabbed her just in time. This affair, " he continued withprofound and wretched conviction, "is going to be Fate with a capitalF. "

Meantime, in the seclusion of her cabin, the little lady was maturingthe plot of deep and righteous wrath. "Wait till to-morrow, " shemuttered, hurling her apparel from her and diving into her bunk. "I'llshow him, " she added, giving the pillow a vicious poke. "He said I washomely! (Thump!) And red-nosed. (Plop!) And cross and ugly! (Whack!) Andhe called me Little Miss Grouch. And--and _gribble_ him!" pursued themaligned one, employing the dreadful anathema of her schoolgirl days. "He pitied me. Pitied! Me! Just wait. I'll be seasick and have it overwith! And I'll cry until I haven't got another tear left. And then I'llfix _him_. He's got nice, clear gray eyes, too, " concluded the littleogress with tigerish satisfaction. "Ouch! where's the bell!"

For several hours Little Miss Grouch carried out her programmefaithfully and at some pains. Then there came to her the fairygodmother, Sleep, who banished the goblins, Grief and Temper, and workedher own marvelous witchery upon the weary girl to such fair purpose thatshe awoke in the morning transformed beyond all human, and moreparticularly all masculine, believing. One look in her glass assured herthat the unfailing charm had worked. 

She girded up her hair and went forth upon the war-path of her sex. 

II

 Second day out. A good deal of weather of one kind and another. Might be called a what-next sort of day. I think I am going to like this old ocean pretty well. 

 SMITH'S LOG. 

Where beauty is not, constancy is not. This perspicuous proverb from thePersian (which I made up myself for the occasion) is cited in mitigationof the Tyro's regrettable fickleness, he--to his shame be itchronicled--having practically forgotten the woe-begone damsel's veryexistence within eighteen short hours after his adventure inknight-errantry. Her tear-ravaged and untidy plainness had, in thatbrief time, been exorcised from memory by a more potent interest, thatof Beauty on her imperial throne. Setting forth the facts in their dueorder, it befell in this wise:--

At or about one bell, to be quite nautical, the Tyro awoke from asomewhat agitated sleep. 

"Hold on a minute!" protested he, addressing whatever Powers might bewithin hearing. "Stop the swing. I want to get out!"

He lifted his head and the wall leaned over and bumped it back upon thepillow. Incidentally it bumped him awake. 

"Must be morning, " he yawned. A pocket-knife and two keys rolled off thestand almost into the yawn. "Some weather, " deduced the Tyro. "Now, ifI'm ever going to be seasick I suppose this is the time to begin. " Hegave the matter one minute's fair and honorable consideration. "I thinkI'll be breakfasting, " he decided, and dismissed it. 

Having satisfied an admirable appetite in an extensive area of solitude, he weaved and wobbled up the broad stairs and emerged into the open, where he stood looking out upon a sea of flecked green and a sky ofmottled gray. Alderson bore down upon him, triangulating the deck like asurveyor. 

"Trying out my sea-legs, " he explained. "How does this strike you as ananti-breakfast roll?"

"Hasn't struck me that way at all, " said the Tyro. "I feel fine. "

"Welcome to the Society of Seaworthy Salts! These are the times that trymen's stomachs, if not their souls. Come along. "

The pair marched back and forth past a row of sparsely inhabiteddeck-chairs, meeting in their promenade a sprinkling of the hardierspirits of the ship community. 

"Have you seen Miss Melancholia this morning?" asked Alderson. 

"No, thank Heaven! I didn't dare go in to breakfast till I'd peekedaround the corner to make sure she wasn't there. "

"Wait. She'll cross your bows early and often. "

"Don't! You make me nervous. What a beast she must think me!"

"Here comes a girl now, " said his friend maliciously. "Prepare toemulate the startled fawn. "

The Tyro turned hastily. "Oh, that's all right, " he said, reassured. "She's wholly surrounded by a masculine bodyguard. No fear of its beingLittle Miss Grouch. "

A sudden roll of the ship opened up the phalanx, and there stood, poised, a Wondrous Vision; a spectacle of delight for gods and men, andparticularly for the Tyro, who then and there forgot Little Miss Grouch, forgot Alderson, forgot his family, his home, his altars and his fires, and particularly his manners, and, staring until his eyes protruded, offered up an audible and fervent prayer to Neptune that the ClanMacgregor might break down in mid-ocean and not get to port for sixmonths. 

"Hello!" said Alderson. "Why this sudden passion for a life on the oceanwave?"

"Did you see her?"

"See whom? Oh!" he added, in enlightenment, as the escort surged pastthem. "That's it, is it, my impressionable young friend? Well, if you'replanning to enter those lists you won't be without competition. "

The Tyro closed his eyes to recall that flashing vision of youth andloveliness. He saw again the deliciously modeled face tinted to warmestpink, a figure blent of curves and gracious contours, a mouth ofdelicate mirth, and eyes, wide, eager, soft, and slanted quaintly at anangle to madden the heart of man. 

"Is there such an angel as the Angel of Laughter?" asked the Tyro. 

"Not in any hierarchy that I know, " replied Alderson. 

"Then there ought to be. Do you know her?"

"Who? The Angel of--"

"Don't guy me, Dr. Alderson. This is serious. "

"Oh, these sudden seizures are seldom fatal. "

"Do you know her?" persisted the Tyro. 

"No. "

The Tyro sighed. Meantime there progressed the ceremony of enthroningthe queen in one of the most desirable chairs on the deck, while thebodyguard fussed eagerly about, tucking in rugs, handing out candy, flowers, and magazines, and generally making monkeys of itself. (I quotethe Tyro's regrettable characterization of these acts of simplecourtesy. )

"But I know some of her admirers, " continued the other. "The lop-earedyouth on the right is young Sperry, son of the famous millionairephilanthropist and tax-dodger, Diedrick Sperry. He'll be worth tenmillions one of these days. "

"Slug!" said the Tyro viciously. 

"That huge youngster at her feet is Journay, guard on last year'sPrinceton team. He's another gilded youth. "

"Unfledged cub, " growled the Tyro. 

"Very nice boy, on the contrary. The bristly-haired specimen who isostentatiously making a sketch of her is Castleton Flaunt, theillustrator. "

"_Poseur!_"

"The languid, brown man with the mustache is Lord Guenn, thepolo-player. "

"Cheap sport!"

"You don't seem favorably impressed with the lady's friends. "

"Hang her friends! I want to know who she is. "

"That also might be done. Do you see the tall man coming down the deck?"

"The old farmer with the wispy hair?"

"Precisely. That 'farmer' is the ablest honest lawyer in New York. Also, he knows everybody. Oh, Judge Enderby, " he hailed. 

"Howdy, Alderson, " responded the iron-gray one. "Glad to see you. Now weshall have some whist. "

"Good! Judge, do you know the pretty girl over yonder, in that chair?"

The judge put up an eyeglass. "Yes, " he said. 

"Tell my young friend here who she is, will you?"

"No. "

"Why not?"

A cavernous chuckle issued from between the lawyer's rigid whiskers. "Because I like his looks. "

"Well, I like hers, sir, " said the Tyro naïvely. 

"Very likely, young man. Very likely. So I'm helping to keep you out oftrouble. That child is pretty enough to give even an old, dried-up heartlike mine the faint echo of a stir. Think of the devastation to a youngone like yours. Steer clear, young man! Steer clear!"

And the iron-gray one, himself an inveterate sentimentalist, passed on, chuckling over his time-worn device for quickening romance in the heartof the young by the judicious interposition of obstacles. He strolledover to the center of attraction, where he was warmly greeted. To theWondrous Vision he said something which caused her to glance over at theTyro. That anxious youth interpreted the look as embodying something ofsurprise, and--could it be?--a glint of mischief. 

"Never mind, " said Alderson, "I dare say we can find some way, some timeto-day or to-morrow. "

"To-morrow!" broke in the Tyro fretfully. "Do you realize that thisvoyage is only a five-day run?"

"Oh, Youth! Youth!" laughed the older man. "Are you often taken thisway, Sandy?"

The Tyro turned upon him the candor of an appealing smile. "Never in mylife before, " he said. "I give you my word of honor. "

"In that case, " said his friend, with mock seriousness, "the life-savingexpedition will try to get a rescue-line to the craft in distress. "

With obvious hope the Tyro's frank eyes interrogated Judge Enderby as hereturned from his interview. 

"Still of the same mind, young man?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Want to know her?"

"I do, indeed!"

"Very well. You have your wish. "

"You're going to present me?"

"I? No, indeed. "

"Then--"

"You say you wish to know her. Well, you do know her. At least, she saysshe knows you. Not all of us attain our heart's desire so simply. "

"Know her!" cried the amazed Tyro. "I swear I don't. Why, I could nomore forget that face--"

"Don't tell her that or she'll catch you up on it since she knows youhave forgotten. "

"What is her name?"

"Ah, that I'm forbidden to tell. 'If he has forgotten me so easily, 'said she--and she seemed really hurt--'I think I can dispense with hisfurther acquaintance. '"

"If I should break through that piffling bodyguard now--"

"If you want some rather high-priced advice for nothing, " said the oldand mischievous lawyer, "don't do it. You might not be well received. "

"Are you in the secret, then?"

"Secret? Is there any secret? A very charming girl who says she knowsyou finds herself forgotten by you. And you've been maladroit enough tobetray the fact. Naturally she is not pleased. Nothing very mysteriousin that. "

Thereupon the pestered youth retired in distress and dudgeon to hiscabin to formulate a campaign. 

Progress, however, seemed slow. It was a very discontented Tyro who, after luncheon, betook himself to the spray-soaked weather rail andstrove to assuage his impatience by a thoughtful contemplation of themany leagues of ocean still remaining to be traversed. From thisconsideration he was roused by a clear, low-pitched, and extraordinarilysilvery voice at his elbow. 

"Aren't you going to speak to me?" it said. 

[Illustration: "AREN'T YOU GOING TO SPEAK TO ME?"]

The Tyro whirled. For a moment he thought that his heart had struck workpermanently, so long did it remain inert in his throat. A sense of thedecent formalities of the occasion impelled him to make a hasty catch athis cap. As he removed it, an impish windgust snatched it away from hisnerveless grasp and presented it to a large and hungry billow, whichstraightway swallowed it and retired with a hiss of acknowledgment likea bowing Jap. 

The Tyro paid not the slightest heed to his loss. With his eyes fixedfirmly upon the bewitching face before him, --these apparitions vanishunless held under determined regard, --he cautiously reached around andpinched himself. The Vision interpreted his action, and signalized herappreciation of it by a sort of beatified chuckle. 

"Oh, yes; you're awake, " she assured him, "and I'm real. "

"Wishes _do_ come true, " he said with the profoundest conviction. 

Up went the Vision's quaintly slanted brows in dainty inquiry, withfurther disastrous results to the young man's cardiac mechanism. 

"Have yours come true?"

"You have, " he averred. 

"Then you're glad to see me again?"

Again? _Again?_ Here it behooved him to go cautiously. Inwardly hecursed the reticence of Judge Enderby with a fervor which would havecaused that aged jurist the keenest delight. Then he made one moredespairing call upon the reserve forces of memory. In vain. Still, hemustn't let her see that. Play up and trust to happy chance!

"Glad!" he repeated. "Don't you hear a sound of inner music? That's myheart singing the Doxology. "

"Very pretty, " the girl approved. "How is the poor foot?"

"Much better, thank you. Did you see that murderous assault?"

"See it? I?" The Vision opened wide eyes of astonishment. 

"Yes. I didn't notice you in the crowd. "

She gave him a long look of mock-pathetic reproach from under droopedlids. "Oh, false and faithless cavalier. You've forgotten me. Already!"

"Once seeing you, I couldn't forget you in ten thousand years, " hecried. "There's some mistake. I don't know you. "

Her laughter rippled about him like the play of sunlight made audible. 

"Oh, antidote to vanity, look at me, " she commanded. 

"It's the very easiest task ever man was set to, " he asserted with suchearnestness that the color rose in her cheeks. 

"Before I vanish forever, I'll give you your chance. Come! Who am I?One--two--thuh-ree-ee. "

"Wait! You're Titania. You're an Undine of the Atlantic. You're theWhite Hope, becomingly tinged with pink, of American Womanhood. You'rethe Queen of Hearts and all the rest of the trumps in the deck. You arealso Cleopatra, and, and--Helen of Troy. But above all, of course, to meyou are the Sphinx. "

"And you, " she remarked, "are a Perfect Pig. 'The pig is a praiseworthycharacter. The pig suffereth--'"

"Little Miss Grouch!" The words burst from him with the propulsiveenergy of total amazement. The next instant he was submerged in shame. 

"I never saw anyone's ears turn scarlet before, " she observed, withdelicate and malicious appreciation of the phenomenon. 

"It's a symptom of the last decay of the mind. But are you reallythe--the runaway girl?"

"I really am, thanks to your help. "

"But you look so totally different. "

"Well, " she reminded him. "You said you probably wouldn't recognize mewhen you saw me again. "

"I don't wholly believe in you yet. How did you work the miracle?"

"Not a miracle at all. I just took the advice of a chance acquaintanceand cheered up. "

"Then please stay cheered up and keep this shape. I like it awfully. "

"It's very hard to be cheerful when one is forgotten overnight, " shecomplained. 

"There's some excuse for me. You didn't have on this--this angel-clothdress; and you looked so--"

"Dowdy, " she put in promptly. "So you said--quite loud. "

"Be merciful! I never did really get a good look at you, you know. Justthe tip of your nose--"

"Red. "

"Help! And a glimpse of your face through a mess of veils--"

"Such a mess of a face. "

"Spare my life! How can I apologize properly when you--"

"You're beyond all apology. Couldn't you at least recognize my voice?I'm supposed, in spite of my facial defects, to have rather a pleasantvoice. "

"But, you see, you didn't do anything but whisper--"

"And blubber. It isn't a pretty word, but I have it on good authority. "

"I'll commit suicide by any method you select. "

She regarded thoughtfully her downcast victim, and found him good tolook at. "So you prefer me in this form, do you?" she taunted. 

"Infinitely. It couldn't be improved on. So if you've any more lightningchanges up your sleeve, don't spring 'em. What does this particularmanifestation of your personality call itself?"

"Little Miss Grouch. "

"Don't be vengeful. "

"Niobe, then. "

"That was the changeling. "

"At any rate, it isn't Amy, short for amiability. To you I shallcontinue to be Little Miss Grouch until further notice. "

"Is that my punishment?"

"Part of it. "

"Well, I can stand it if you can, " he declared recklessly. "What's therest?"

"I think, " she said, after deliberating with herself, "that I shallsentence you to slavery. You are to be at my beck and call until you'veattained a proper pitch of repentance and are ready to admit that I'mnot as hopelessly homely as you told your friend. "

"Homely!" cried the harassed youth. "I think you're the most wond--hum!"He broke off, catching himself just in time. "You say this slaverybusiness is to last until I make my recantation?" he inquired cunningly. 

"At least. "

He assumed a judicial pose. "Calls for consideration. Would you mindtilting the face a little to the left?"

"Gracious! Another artist? Mr. Flaunt has been plaguing me all themorning to sit to him. "

"No, I'm not an artist. Simply a connoisseur. Now that I look moreclosely, your eyebrows are slanted a full degree too much to the north. "

"My nurse was a Jap. Do you think Oriental influence could account forit?" she asked anxiously. 

"And at the corner of your mouth there is a most reprehensible dimple. Dimples like that simply ought not to be allowed. As for your nose--"

"Never mind my nose, " said she with dignity. "It minds its ownbusiness. "

"No, " he continued, with the air of one who sums up to a conclusion. "Icannot approve the _tout ensemble_. It's interesting. And peculiar. Andsuggestive. But too post-impressionistic. "

"That is quite enough about me. Suppose you change the subject now andaccount for yourself. "

"I? Oh, I came along to frustrate the plots of a wicked father. "

"He isn't a wicked father! And I didn't ask you why you're here. I wantto know who you are!"

"I'm the Perfect Pig. "

Little Miss Grouch stamped her little French heel. As it landed theyoung man was six feet away, having retired with the graceful agility ofa trained boxer. 

"You're very light on your feet, " said she. 

"Therein lies my only hope of self-preservation. _You_ were not verylight on my foot yesterday, you know. "

"Has it recovered enough to take me for a walk?"

"Quite!"

"Still, " she added, ruminating, "ought I to go walking with a man whosevery name I don't know?"

"My name? Do you think that's fair, when you won't tell me yours?Besides, I don't believe you'd care about it, anyway. "

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Well, it isn't very impressive. People have even been known to jeer atit. "

"You're ashamed of it?"

"No-o-o-o, " said the Tyro artfully. 

"You are! I'd be ashamed to be ashamed of my name--even if it wereSmith. "

"Hello! What's the matter with Smith?" demanded the young man, startledat this unexpected turn. 

"Oh, nothing, " said she loftily, "except that it's so awfully common. Why, there are thousands of Smiths!"

"Common? Well, I'll be jig--" At this point, resentment spurred theingenuity of the Tyro to a prompt and lofty flight. "If you don't likeSmith, " he said, "I wonder what you'll think when you hear the awfultruth. "

"Try me. "

"Very well, " he sighed. "I suppose it's foolish to have any feelingabout it. But perhaps you'd be sensitive, too, if you'd been born to thename of Daddleskink. "

_"What!"_

"Daddleskink, " said the Tyro firmly. "Sanders Daddleskink. Suppose youwere Mrs. Sanders Daddleskink. "

"I shan't suppose any such thing, " she retorted indignantly. 

"I warned you that you wouldn't like it. "

"Like it? I don't even believe it. There ain't no such animile as aDaddleskink. "

"Madame, " said the Tyro, drawing himself up to his full height, "I wouldhave you understand that, uneuphonious as the name may seem, theDaddleskinks sat in the seats of the mighty when our best-known Americanfamilies of to-day, such as the Murphys, the Cohens, the Browns, Joneses, and Robinsons, were mere nebulous films of protoplasmic mud. "

"Oo-ooh!" said Little Miss Grouch, making a little red rosebud of hermouth. "What magnificent language you use. "

"Genealogists claim, " continued the young man, warming to his subject, "that the family came from Provence and was originally De Dalesquinc, and that the name became corrupted into its present form. My friendsoften call me Smith for short, " he concluded, in sudden inspiration. 

"Very tactful of them, " she murmured. 

"Yes. You might have had the privilege, yourself, if you hadn't deridedthe name of Smith. Now, aren't you sorry?"

"I shall _not_ call you Smith, " declared the girl. "I shall call you byyour own name, Mr. Sanders Daddle--Oh, it simply can't be true!" shewailed. 

Chance sent Alderson along the deck at this moment. "Hello, Dr. Alderson, " called the Tyro. 

"Hello, Sandy!" said the other. 

"You see, " said the Tyro in dismal triumph. 

Scant enough it was, as corroboration for so outrageous a facture as thecognomen Daddleskink, but it served to convince the doubter. 

"At least, you have the satisfaction of being unusual, " she consoledhim. 

"If you regard it as a satisfaction. Can you blame me for denouncing myfate? How will you like introducing such a name to your friends?"

"I'm not going to introduce you to my friends. I'm going to keep you formyself. Solitary confinement. "

_"Solitude à deux?_ That's a mitigation. Oh, beautiful--I mean to sayplain but worthy _incognita_, suppose I ferret out the mystery of youridentity for myself?"

"I put you on honor. You're to ask no questions of any one. You're noteven to listen when anyone speaks to me. Do you promise?"

"May my eyes be blasted out and my hopes wrecked by never seeing youagain, if I be not faithful, " he said. 

But Fate arranges these matters to suit its more subtle purposes. 

The Wondrous Vision had dismissed her slave, giving him rendezvous forthe next morning, --he had pleaded in vain for that evening, --and he wascomposing himself to a thoughtful promenade, and to the building ofair-castles of which the other occupant was Little Miss Grouch, when hebecame aware of a prospective head-on collision. He side-stepped. Theapproaching individual did the same. He sheered off to port. The otherfollowed. In desperation he made a plunge to starboard and was checkedat the rail by the pursuer. 

"I wish to speak to you, " announced a cold and lofty voice. 

The Tyro emerged from his glorious abstraction, to find himselfconfronted by a middle-aged lady with violent pretensions to youth, mainly artificial. Some practitioners of the toilet-table paint in themanner of Sargent; others follow the school of Cecilia Beaux; but thislady's color-scheme was unmistakably that of Turner in his mostexpansive mood of sunset, burning ships, and volcanic eruptions. 

By way of compensation, she wore an air of curdled virtue, and carriedher nose at such an angle that one expected to see her at any moment setthe handle of her lorgnette on the tip thereof, and oblige the companywith a few unparalleled feats of balancing. 

Surprise held the Tyro's tongue in leash for the moment. Then he cameto. Here was another unexpected lady evidently relying upon that trickymemory of his. Very well: this time it should not betray him!

"How do you do?" he said, seizing her hand and shaking it warmly. "I'mso glad to see you again. "

She withdrew the captured member indignantly. "Again? Where have youever seen me before?" she demanded. 

"Just what I was trying to think, " murmured the Tyro. "Where _have_ Iseen you?"

The colorful lady lifted her glasses and her nose at one and the samemoment. "I am Mrs. Denyse, " she informed him. "Mrs. Charlton Denyse. Youmay know the name. "

"I may, " admitted the Tyro, unfavorably impressed by the manner in whichshe was lorgnetting him, "but I don't at the moment recall it. "

Exasperation flashed in Mrs. Denyse's cold eyes. She had spent much timeand trouble and no small amount of money advertising that name sociallyin New York, and to find it unknown was a reflection upon theintelligence of her investment. "Where on earth do you come from, then?"she inquired acidly. 

"Oh, all over the place, " he answered with a vague gesture. "Mainly theWest. "

[Illustration: SURPRISE HELD THE TYRO'S TONGUE IN LEASH]

"So one would suppose. It doesn't matter. I wish you to read this. " Shethrust a folded newspaper page into his hand, adding: "It is only fairto you to say that I speak with the authority permissible to kinship. "

"Kinship? Do you mean that you're related to me?"

"Certainly not! Be good enough to look at the paper and you willunderstand. "

The Tyro was good enough to look, but, he reflected with regret, hewasn't clever enough to understand. 

The first column was given up to a particularly atrocious murder inHarlem. The second was mainly political conjecture. In the center of thepage was a totally faceless "Portrait of Cecily Wayne, Spoiled Darlingof New York and Newport, whose engagement to Remsen Van Dam has JustBeen Announced. " Beyond, there was a dispatch about the collapse of thenewest airship, and, on the far border, an interview with the owner ofthe paper, in which he personally declared war on most of CentralAmerica and half of Europe because a bandit who had once worked on aranch of his had been quite properly tried and hanged for severalcold-blooded killings. 

"You will gain nothing by delay, " said the lady impatiently. 

"I give it up, " confessed the Tyro, returning the paper. "You'll have totell me. "

"Even the most impenetrable stupidity could not overlook theannouncement of Remsen Van Dam's engagement. "

"Oh, yes; I saw that. But as I don't know Mr. Van Dam personally, itdidn't interest me. "

"Still, possibly you're not so extremely Western as not to know who heis. He's the sole surviving representative of one of the oldest housesin New York. "

"Barns, not houses, " corrected the other gently. "His father was the VanDam coachman. He made his pile in some sort of liniment, and helpedhimself to the Van Dam name when it died out. "

For Mrs. Denyse to redden visibly was manifestly impossible. But herplump cheeks swelled. "How dare you rake up that wretched scandal!" shedemanded. 

"Scandal? Not at all, " replied the Tyro mildly. "You see, I happen toknow. My grandmother was a Miss Van Dam. "

"It must have been of some other family, " said the lady haughtily. "Ibeg to inform you that Remsen Van Dam is my cousin. "

"Really! I'm awfully sorry. Still--you know, --I dare say he's all right. His father--the real name was Doody--was an excellent coachman. I'veoften heard Grandma Van say so. "

Mrs. Denyse after a time recovered speech by a powerful effort, and herfirst use of it was to make some observations upon the jealousy of poorrelations. 

"But this is profitless, " she said. "You will now appreciate thedesirability of guarding your conduct. "

"In what respect?"

Mrs. Denyse pointed majestically to the pictorial blur in the paper. "Perhaps you don't recognize that, " she said. 

"I don't. Nobody could. "

"That's true; they couldn't, " she granted reluctantly. "But there's thename beneath, Cecily Wayne. I suppose you can read. "

"I can. Who is Cecily Wayne?"

"Of all the impudence!" cried the enraged lady. "As you've been makingyourself and her conspicuous all the afternoon--"

"Oh!" exclaimed the Tyro, a great light breaking in upon him. "So that'sCecily Wayne. It's a pretty name. "

"It's a name that half of the most eligible men in New York have triedtheir best to change, " said the other with emphasis. "Remsen Van Dam isnot the only one, I assure you. "

"Then the apostle of St. Vitus on the dock was Remsen Van Dam! Well, that's all right. She isn't engaged to him. The paper's wrong. "

"Pray, how can you know that?"

"A little bird--No; they don't have little birds at sea, do they? Awell-informed fish told me. "

"Then I tell you the opposite. Now I trust that you will appreciate thatyour attentions to Miss Wayne are offensive. "

"They don't seem to have offended her. "

"Where did you know her? Who are you, anyway?" snapped his inquisitress, her temper quite gone. 

The Tyro leaned forward and fixed his gaze midway of the lady's adequatecorsage. 

"If you want to know, " said he, "you're carrying my favor above yourheart, or near it, this minute. Look on the under side of your necktie. "

The indignant one turned the scarf and read with a baleful eye:"Smitholder: Pat. April 10, 1912. " "What does Smitholder mean?" shedemanded. 

"A holder for neckwear, the merits of which modesty forbids me todescant upon, invented by its namesake, Smith. "

"Ah, " said she, with a great contempt. "Then your name, I infer, isSmith. "

He bowed. "Smith's as good a trade name as any other. "

"Very well, Mr. Smith. Take my advice and keep your distance from MissWayne. Otherwise--"

"Well, otherwise?" encouraged the Tyro as she paused. 

"I shall send a wireless to my cousin. _And_ to Mr. Wayne. I suppose youknow, at least, who Hurry-up Wayne of Wall Street is. "

"Never heard of him, " said the Tyro cheerfully. 

"You're a fool!" said Mrs. Charlton Denyse, and marched away, with theguerdon of Smith heaving above her outraged and ample bosom. 

III

 Third day out. All kinds of doings, weather and otherwise. This is a queer old Atlantic. 

 SMITH'S LOG. 

Overnight, Mrs. Charlton Denyse (wife of an erstwhile Charley Dennis whohad made his pile in the wheat-pit) was a busy person. Scenting socialprestige, of which she was avid, in connection with Cecily Wayne, shehad sought to establish herself as the natural protectress ofunchaperoned maidenhood and had met with a well-bred, well-timed, andwell-placed snub. 

Thick of skin, indeed, must they be who venture into the New York socialscramble, and Mrs. Denyse shared at least one characteristic of therhinoceros. Nothing daunted by her failure with the daughter, sheproceeded to invest a part of the Dennis pile in wireless messages toHenry Clay Wayne, on the basis of her kinship with Remsen Van Dam. Inthe course of time these elicited replies. Mrs. Denyse was wellsatisfied. She was mingling in the affairs of the mighty. 

She was also mingling in the affairs of the Tyro. To every one on boardwhom she knew--and she was expert in making or claimingacquaintance--she expanded upon the impudence of a young nobody namedSmith who was making up to Cecily Wayne, doubtless with a hope ofcapturing her prospective millions. Among others, she approached JudgeEnderby, and that dry old Machiavelli congratulated her upon heraltruistic endeavors to keep the social strain of the ship pure andundefiled, promising his help. He it was who suggested her appealing tothe captain. 

As I have indicated, Judge Enderby in his unprofessional hours had anelfish and prank-some love of mischief. 

Quite innocent of plots and stratagems formulating about him, the Tyrotried all the various devices made and provided for the killing of timeon shipboard, but found none of them sufficiently lethal. At dinner hehad caught a far glimpse of Little Miss Grouch seated at the captain'stable between Lorf Guenn and the floppy-eared scion of the house ofSperry. Later in the evening he had passed her once and she had givenhim the most casual of nods. He went to bed with a very restless wonderas to what was going to happen in the morning, when she had promised towalk with him again. 

Nothing happened in the morning. Nothing, that is, except an uncertainbobble of sea, overspread by a wind-driven mist which kept the waryunder cover. The Tyro tramped endless miles at the side of theindefatigable Dr. Alderson; he patrolled the deck with a more anxiouswatchfulness than is expected even of the ship's lookout; he peered intonooks and corners; he studied the plan of the leviathan for possiblerefuges; he pervaded the structure like a lost dog. Useless. Alluseless. No Little Miss Grouch anywhere to be seen. 

At noon he had given up hope and stood leaning against a stanchion inmorose contemplation of a school of porpoises. They were very playfulporpoises. They seemed to be actually enjoying themselves. That thereshould be joy anywhere in that gray and colorless world was, to theTyro, a monstrous thing. Then he turned and beheld Little Miss Grouch. 

She sat, muffled up in a steamer chair, just behind him. Only her eyesappeared, bright and big under the quaintly slanted brows; but that wasenough. The Tyro was under the impression that the sun had come out. 

"Hel-_lo_!" he cried. "How long have you been there?"

"One minute, exactly. "

"Isn't it a glorious day?" said the Tyro, meaning every word of it. 

"No; it isn't, " she returned, with conviction. "I think this is a veryqueer-acting ship. "

"No! Do you? Why, I supposed all ships acted this way. "

"Well, they don't. I don't like it. I haven't been feeling a bit well. "

The Tyro expressed commiseration and sympathy. 

"_You_ look disgustingly fit, " she commented. 

"I? Never felt so well in my life. A minute ago, I won't say. Butnow--I could burst into poetry. "

"Do, " she urged. 

"All right, I will. Listen. It's a limerick. I made it up out of thefullness of my heart, and it's about myself but dedicated to you. 

 "There once was a seaworthy child Whose feelings could never be riled. While the porpoises porped--"

"There's no such word as 'porped, '" she interrupted. 

"Yes, there is. There has to be. Nothing else in the world acts like aporpoise; therefore there must be a word meaning to act like a porpoise;and that word is the verb 'to porp. '"

"You're an ingenious lunatic, " she allowed. 

"Dangerous only when interrupted. I will now resume my lyric:--

 "While the porpoises porped And the passengers torped--"

"The passengers _what_-ed?"

"Torped. What you've been doing this morning. "

"I haven't!" she denied indignantly. 

"Of course you have. You've been in a torpor, haven't you? Well, to bein a torpor, is to torp. Now I'm going to do it all over again, and ifyou interrupt this time, I'll _sing_ it. 

 "There once was a seaworthy child Whose feelings could never be riled. While the porpoises porped And the passengers torped, _He_ sat on the lee rail and smiled. "

"Beautiful!" she applauded. "I feel much better already. "

"Don't you think a little walk would put you completely on your feet?"he inquired. 

"On yours, more probably. " She smiled up at him. "Come and sit down andtell me: are you a poet, or a lunatic, or a haberdasher, or what kind ofa--a Daddleskink are you?"

"Haberdasher? Why should I be a haberdasher?"

"An acquaintance of yours has been talking--trying to talk to me aboutyou. She said you were. "

"Mrs. Denyse?"

"She seems a fearfully queer person, and quite excited about you. Therewas something about you and a necktie, and--and Mr. Van Dam, and then Iescaped. "

"Oh! The necktie. Why, yes, I suppose I am a sort of haberdasher, cometo think of it. "

"I'm glad you're not ashamed of your business if you are of your name. You told her it was Smith. "

"Did I? I don't remember that I did, exactly. Even so, what would be theuse of wasting a really good name on her? She wouldn't appreciate it. "

"Mr. De Dalesquinc--"

"Daddleskink, " corrected the Tyro firmly. 

"Very well, " she sighed. "Daddleskink, then. Wasn't that Dr. Alderson, the historian, that you were walking with yesterday?"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"Only by correspondence. He did some research work on my house. "

"_Your_ house. Do you inhabit a prehistoric ruin, that Alderson shouldtake an interest in it?"

"I call it mine. It isn't really--yet. It doesn't belong to anybody. "

"Then why not just go and grab it? Squatter sovereignty, I believe theycall the process. "

"I thought it was called jumping a claim. Somebody has a claim on it. But that doesn't count. I always get what I want. "

"Without trying?"

"Yes, " she purred. 

"Unfortunate maiden!"

"What?"

"I said 'unfortunate maiden. ' Life must be fearfully dull for you. "

"It isn't dull at all. It's delightful!"

"As witness day before yesterday. Were you getting what you wantedthen?"

"I wanted a good cry, and I got it. And I don't want to talk about it. If you're going to be stupid--"

"Tell me about the prehistoric ruin, " he implored hastily. 

"It isn't a ruin at all. It's the cunningest, quaintest, homiest littleold house in all New York. "

"I'm sorry, " he said in the tone of one who reluctantly thwartsanother's project. 

"What are you sorry about?" She drew down the slanted brows with adelicious effect of surprise. 

"I'm sorry; but you can't have that house. "

"Why not?"

"It's mine. "

"Now, you take any other house in New York that you want, " she cajoled. "Fifth Avenue is still nice. Any one can live on Fifth Avenue, though. But to have a real house on Battery Place--that's different. "

"My idea exactly. "

She sat bolt upright. "You aren't serious. You don't mean themosaic-front house with the little pillars?"

"The oldest house left on Battery Place. That's it. "

"And you claim it's yours?"

"Practically. I don't exactly own it--"

"Then you never will. I've wished it in, " she announced with thecalmness of finality. 

"Think how good for you it would be not to get something you wanted. Thetonic effect of a life-size disappointment--"

"No, " she said, shaking her head violently, "it wouldn't be good for meat all. I should cry and become a red-nosed mess again. _I'm--going--to--have--that--house. _ Why, Mr. Dad--Mr. Smi--Mr. Man, "she cried, with a gesture of desperation, "I've owned that house in mymind for five years. "

"Five years! I've owned it for five generations. "

"Are you claiming that it's your family place?"

"It is. Is it yours? Are you my long-lost cousin, by any chance? Welcometo my arms--coat of arms, I mean. "

"What would that be?" she inquired mischievously, "a collar-button, fessed--"

"Bending above a tearful maiden rampant. The legend, 'Stand on your ownfeet; if you don't, somebody else will. '"

"I don't _think_ I can boast any cousin named Daddleskink, " sheobserved. "Anyway, we're not New Yorkers. We came from the West. "

"Where the money is made, " he commented. 

"To the East where it is spent, " she concluded. 

"Why spend it buying other people's houses?"

"Daddleskink Manor, " ruminated the girl, in mocking solemnity. "Shallyou restore the ancient glory of the name? By the way, Dr. Alderson'sresearches don't seem to have brought your clan to light, in the recordsof the house. "

"Oh, my interest is on my mother's side, " said the Tyro hastily. "That'swhy I'm buying the property. "

"You're not!" said the girl, with a little stamp of her foot. Hercompanion moved back apprehensively. "Can you pay a million dollars forit?"

"No. Can you?"

"Never mind. Dad said he'd get it for me if--if--well, he promised to, anyway. "

"If you'd marry the marionette who recently faded from view?"

"Ye--yes. "

"Far be it from me, " said the Tyro modestly, "to enter the lists againstso redoubtable a champion on such short notice. Still, if you _are_marrying real estate, rather than wealth, intellect, or beauty, I maymention that I've got an option on that very house, and that it willcost me pretty much every cent I've made since I left college to pay forit. "

"That you've made? Haven't you got any money of your own?"

"Whose do you suppose the money I've made is?"

"But anything to _live_ on, I mean. Do you have to work?"

"Oh, no. The poorhouse is contiguous and hospitable. But I've always hada puerile prejudice against pauperdom as a career. "

"You know what I mean, " she accused. "Haven't your people got money?"

"Enough. And they can use what they have. Why should they waste it onme?"

"But the men I know don't have to work, " said the young lady. 

There was nothing patronizing or superior in her tone, but the curiositywith which she regarded her companion was in itself an irritant. 

"Oh, well, " he said, "after you've bought an old historic house andmaybe a coat of arms, I dare say you'll come to know some decentcitizens by and by. "

"You mustn't think I have any feeling about your working, " she explainedmagnanimously. "Lots of nice men do. I know that. Only I don't happento know them. Young men, I mean. Of course dad works, but that'sdifferent. I suppose Mrs. Denyse told you who dad is. "

"She did. But I didn't know any more after she got through telling thanbefore. "

The slanted brows went up to a high pitch of incredulity. "Where in theworld do you live?"

"Why, I've been in the West mostly for some years. My work has kept methere. "

"Oh, your haberdashery isn't in New York?"

"My haber--er--well--no; that is, I don't depend on the--er--tradeentirely. I'm a sort of a kind of a chemist, too. "

"In a college?" inquired the young lady, whose impressions of chemistryas a pursuit were derived chiefly from her schooldays. 

"Mainly in mining-camps. Far out of the world. That's why I don't knowwho you and your father are. "

"Don't you really? Well, never mind us. Tell me more about your work, "she besought, setting the feminine pitfall--half unconsciously--intowhich trapper and prey so often walk hand in hand. 

He answered in the words duly made and provided for such occasions: "Notmuch to tell, " and, as the natural sequence, proceeded to tell it, encouraged by her interested eyes, at no small length. 

Little Miss Grouch was genuinely entertained. From the young men whomshe knew she had heard sundry tales of the wild, untamed portions of ourcountry, but these gilded ones had peeked into such places from thewindows of transcontinental trains, or lingered briefly in them onprivate-car junkets, or used them as bases of supply for luxurioushunting-trips. Here was a youth--he looked hardly more--who had gone outin dead earnest and fought the far and dry West for a living, and, asnearly as she could make out from this gray-eyed Othello's modestnarrative, had won his battle all along the line. 

I am violating no confidence in stating that this was the beginning oftrouble for Little Miss Grouch, though she was far from appreciating herdanger at the time, or of realizing that her dire design of vengeancewas becoming diluted with a very different sentiment. 

"So, " concluded the narrator, "here I am, a tenderfoot of the ocean, having marketed my ore-reducing process for a sufficient profit to giveme a vacation, and also to permit of my buying a little old house on theBattery. "

"I'm sorry, " said Little Miss Grouch, imitatively. 

"What are you sorry for?"

"Your disappointment. Still, disappointment is good for the soul. Anyway, I'm not going to quarrel with you now. You're too brutal. Ithink I'm feeling better. How do I look?"

"Like a perfect wond--hum!" broke off the Tyro, nearly choking over hissudden recollection of the terms of acquaintance. "I can't see anyimprovement. "

"Perhaps walking would help. They say the plainest face looks betterunder the stimulus of exercise. Is your foot fit to walk on?"

"It's fit for me to walk on, " said the Tyro cautiously. 

"Come along, then, " and she set out at a brisk, swinging stride whichtold its own tale of pulsing life and joyous energy. After half a dozenturns, she paused to lean over the rail which shuts off the carefullycaged creatures of the steerage from the superior above. 

"My grandfather came over steerage, " she remarked casually. "I don'tthink I should like it. "

A big-eyed baby, in its mother's sturdy arms below, caught sight of herand crowed with delight, stretching up its arms. 

"Oh, " she cried with a little intake of the breath, "look at thatadorable baby!"

As she spoke the Tyro surprised in her face a change; a look of infinitewistfulness and tenderness, the yearning of the eternal mother thatrises in every true woman when she gazes upon the child that might havebeen her own; and suddenly a great longing surged over his soul andmastered him for the moment. But the baby was lisping something inGerman. 

"What is it saying?" Little Miss Grouch asked. 

[Illustration: "OH, LOOK AT THAT ADORABLE BABY!"]

"'Pretty-pretty, ' substantially, " translated the Tyro, recoveringhimself. "Madam, " he continued, addressing the mother, "it is evidentthat your offspring suffers from some defect of vision. I advise you toconsult an oculist at once. "

"_Bitte?_" said the mother, a broad-shouldered, deep-chested youngmadonna. 

"He says, " explained Little Miss Grouch, "that it is a beautiful baby, with a wonderful intelligence and unusually keen eyes. What is hername?"

"Karl, lady, " said the mother. 

"Let's adopt Karl, " said the corrected one, to the Tyro. "We'll comehere every day, and bring him nougats and candied violets--"

"And some pâté de foie gras, and brandied peaches, and dry Martinicocktails, " concluded the Tyro. "And then there'll be a burial at sea. What do you think a baby's stomach is, beautiful--er--example ofmisplaced generosity? Oranges would be more to the purpose. "

"Very well, oranges, then. And we'll come twice a day and meet ourprotégé here. "

Thus it was arranged in the course of a talk with the mother. She wasgoing back to the Fatherland, she explained, to exhibit her wonderfulbabe to its grandparents. And if the beautiful lady (here the Tyro shookhis head vigorously) thought the captain wouldn't object, the youngstercould be handed up over the rail for an occasional visit, and could bewarranted to be wholly contented and peaceful. The experiment was triedat once, with such success that the Tyro was presently moved to complainof being wholly supplanted by the newcomer. Thereupon Little Miss Grouchcondescended to resume the promenade. 

"As our acquaintance bids fair to be of indefinite duration--" began theTyro, when she cut in:--

"Why indefinite?"

"Since it is to last until I belie my better judgment and basely recantmy opinion as to your looks. "

"You were nearly caught while we were discussing our protégé. Well, goon. "

"I think you'd best tell me a little about yourself. "

"Oh, my life is dull compared with yours, " she returned. "Our onlyinteresting problem has been a barn-storming of the doors of New YorkSociety. "

"And did you break in?"

For a moment her eyes opened wide. Then she remembered his confessedignorance and laughed. 

With such reservations as she deemed advisable, she sketched briefly forhim one of those amazing careers so typical of the swiftly changingsocial conditions of America. 

As she talked, he visualized her father, keen, restless, resolute, amoney-hunter, who had bred out of a few dollars many dollars, and out ofmany dollars an overwhelming fortune; her mother, a woman of clean, fine, shrewd, able New England stock (the Tyro, being of the oldAmerica, knew the name at once); and the daughter, born to moderatemeans, in the Middle West, raised luxuriously on the basis of waxingwealth, educated abroad and in America in a school which shields itspupils from every reality of life and forces their growth in a hothouseatmosphere specially adapted to these human orchids, and then presentedas a finished product for the acceptance of the New York circle which, by virtue of much painful and expensive advertising in the newspapers, calls itself Society. 

Part of this she told him, qualifying the grossness of the reality byher own shrewd humor; part he read between the lines of theautobiography. 

What she did not reveal to him was that she was the most flattered andpampered heiress of the season; courted by the great and shining ones, fawned on by the lesser members of the charmed circle, the pet andplaything of the Sunday newspapers--and somewhat bored by it all. 

The siege of society had been of farcical ease. Not her prospectivemillions nor her conquering loveliness, either of which might eventuallyhave gained the entrée for her, would have sufficed to set her on thethrone. Shrewd social critics ascribed her effortless success to whatLord Guenn called her "You-be-d----d" air. 

The fact is, there was enough of her New England mother in Cecily tokeep her chin up. She never fawned. She never truckled. She was directand honest, and free from taint of snobbery, and a society perhaps themost restlessly, self-distrustfully snobbish in the world marveled andadmired and accepted. Gay, high-spirited, kind in her somewhatthoughtless way, clever, independent of thought and standard, with acertain sweet and wistful vigor of personality, Cecily Wayne ruled, almost as soon as she entered; ruled--and was lonely. 

For the Puritan in her demanded something more than her own circle gaveher. And, true to the Puritan character, she wanted her price. Thatprice was happiness. Hence she had fled from Remsen Van Dam. 

"But what's become of your promenade deck court?" inquired the Tyro, when he found his attempts to elicit any further light upon hercharacter or career ineffective. 

"Scattered, " she laughed. "I told them I wouldn't be up until afterluncheon. Aren't you flattered?"

"I'm grateful, " he said. "But don't forget that we have to call on Karlat four o'clock. "

"Well, come and rescue me then from the 'court, ' as you call it. Now Imust make myself pretty--I mean less homely--for luncheon. "

Leaden clogs held back the hands of the Tyro's watch after luncheon. Full half an hour before the appointed time he was on deck, aforehandedness which was like to have proved his undoing, for JudgeEnderby, who had taken a fancy to the young man and was moreover amusedby the incipient romance, swooped down upon him and inveigled him into awalk. Some five minutes before the hour, the Joyous Vision appeared, andmade for her deck-throne attended by her entire court, including severalnew accessions. 

Judge Enderby immediately tightened his coils around his captive. Brought up in a rigid school of courtesy toward his elders, the Tyrosought some inoffensive means of breaking away; but when the otherhooked an arm into his, alleging the roll of the vessel, --though not inthe least needing the support, --he all but gave up hope. For aninterminable quarter of an hour the marplot jurist teased his captive. Then, with the air of one making a brilliant discovery, he said:--

"Why, there's your homely little friend. "

"Who?" said the Tyro. 

"Little Miss--what was it you called her?--oh, yes, Miss Grouch. Strangehow these plain girls sometimes attract men, isn't it? Look at thecircle around her. Suppose we join it. "

The Tyro joyfully assented. The Queen welcomed Judge Enderby graciously, and ordered a chair vacated for him; young Mr. Sperry, whose chair itwas, obeying with ill grace. The Tyro she allowed to stand, vouchsafinghim only the most careless recognition. Was he not a good ten minuteslate? And should the Empress of Hearts be kept waiting with impunity?Punishment, mild but sufficient for a lesson, was to be the portion ofthe offender. She gave him no opportunity to recall their appointment. And with a quiet suggestion she set young Sperry on his trail. 

Now Mr. Diedrick Sperry, never notable for the most amiable of moods andmanners, was nourishing in his rather dull brain a sense of injury, inthat he had been ousted from his point of vantage. As an object ofredress the Tyro struck him as eminently suitable. From Mrs. Denyse hehad heard the story of the pushing young "haberdasher, " and hissuspicions identified the newcomer. 

"Say, Miss Cecily, " he said, "why 'n't you interdoose your friend tous?" In defense of the Sperry accent, I may adduce that, by virtue ofhis wealth and position he had felt at liberty to dispense with thelesser advantages of education and culture; therefore he talked thelanguage of Broadway. 

"What? To all of you?" she said lazily. "Oh, it would take much toolong. "

"Well, to me, anyway, " insisted the rather thinly gilded youth. "I binhearin' about him. "

"Very well: Mr. Sperry, Mr. Daddleskink. "

She pronounced the abominable syllables quite composedly. But upon Mr. Sperry they produced an immediate effect. 

"Wha-at!" he cried with a broad grin. "What's the name?"

"Daddleskink, " explained the Tyro mildly. "An umlaut over the K, and thefinal Z silent as in 'buzz. '"

"Daddleskink, " repeated the other. "Daddle--Haw! haw! haw!!"

"Cut it, Diddy!" admonished young Journay, giving him a surreptitiousdig in the ribs. "Your work is coarse. "

Temporarily the trouble-seeker subsided, but presently above theconversation, which had again become general, his cackling voice washeard inquiring from Judge Enderby:--

"Say, Judge, how do you catch a diddleskink? Haw--haw--haw!"

This was rather further than the Empress intended that reprisals for_lèse-majesté_ should go. Still, she was curious to see how her strangeacquaintance would bear himself under the test. She watched him from thecorner of an observant eye. Would he be disconcerted by the brusquenessof the attack? Would he lose his temper? Would he cheapen himself toanswer in kind? What _would_ he do or say?

Habituation to a rough, quick-action life had taught the Tyro to keephis wits, his temper, and his speech. No sign indicated that he hadheard the offensive query. He stood quietly at ease, listening to somecomments of Lord Guenn on the European situation. Judge Enderby, however, looked the questioner up and down with a disparaging regard andsnorted briefly. Feeling himself successful thus far, Sperry turned froma flank to a direct onset. 

"Know Mrs. Denyse, Mr. Gazink?" he asked. 

"I've met her. "

"How? When you were peddlin' neckties and suspenders?"

"No, " said the Tyro quietly. 

"Doin' much business abroad?" pursued the other. 

"No; I'm not here on business. It's a pleasure trip, " explained thevictim pleasantly. 

"Gents' furnishin's must be lookin' up. Go every year?" Mr. Sperry waslooking for an opening. 

"This is my first trip. "

"Your first!" cried the other. "Why, I bin across fifteen times. " Heconceived the sought-for opening to be before him. "So you're outcuttin' a dash. A sort of haberdash, hey? Haw--haw--haw!" He burst intoa paroxysm of self-applausive mirth over his joke, in which a couple ofsatellites near at hand joined. "Haw--haw--haw!" he roared, stimulatedby their support. 

The Tyro slowly turned a direct gaze upon his tormentor. "The Westernvariety of your species, " he observed pensively, "pronounce that'hee-haw' rather than 'haw-haw. '"

There was a counter-chuckle, with Judge Enderby leading. Mr. Sperry'smirth subsided. "Say, what's the chap mean?" he appealed to Journay. 

"Oh, go eat a thistle, " returned that disgusted youth. "He means you'rean ass, and you are. Serves you right. "

Sperry rose and hulked out of the circle. "I'll see you on deck--later, "he muttered to the Tyro in passing. 

Little Miss Grouch turned bright eyes upon him. "Mr. Daddleskink is notaddicted to haberdashery exclusively. He also daddles in--"

"Real estate, " put in the Tyro. 

"Fancy his impudence!" She turned to Lord Guenn. "He wants to buy _my_house. "

"Not the house on the Battery?" said one of the court. 

"I say, you know, " put in Lord Guenn. "I have a sort of an interest inthat house. Had a great-grandfather that was taken in there when he waswounded in one of the colonial wars. The Revolution, I believe you callit. "

"Then I suppose you will put in a claim, too, Bertie, " said Miss Grouch, and the familiar friendliness of her address caused the Tyro a littleunidentified and disconcerting pang. 

"Boot's on the other leg, " replied the young Englishman. "The house hasa claim on us, for hospitality. We paid it in part to old SpencerForsyth--he was my revered ancestor's friend--when he came over toEngland after the war. Got a portrait of him now at Guenn Oaks. Straight, lank, stern, level-eyed, shrewd-faced old boy--regularwhackin' old Yankee type. I beg your pardon, " he added hastily. 

"What for?" asked the Tyro with bland but emphatic inquiry. 

Lord Guenn was not precisely slug-witted. 

"Stupid of me, " he confessed heartily. "What should an Americangentleman be but of Yankee type? You know, "--he regarded the Tyrothoughtfully, --"his portrait at Guenn Oaks looks a bit like you. "

Little Miss Grouch shot a glance of swift interest and curiosity at theTyro. 

"Very likely, " he said. "I'm a Yankee, too, and the type persists. Speaking of types, there's the finest young German infant in thesteerage that ever took first prize in a baby-show. "

As strategy this gained but half its object. Up rose Little Miss Grouchwith the suggestion that they all make a pilgrimage to see theIncomparable Infant of her adoption. Much disgruntled, the Tyro broughtup the rear. Judge Enderby drew him aside as they approached thesteerage rail. 

"Young man, are you a fighter?"

"Me? I'm the white-winged dove of peace. "

"Then I think I'll warn young Sperry that if he molests you I'll seethat--"

"Wait a moment, judge. Don't do that. "

"Why not?"

"I don't like the notion. A man ought to be able to take care ofhimself. "

"But he's twice your weight. And he's got a record for beating upwaiters and cabbies about New York. Now, my boy, " the judge slid agaunt hand along the other's shoulder and paused. The hand also paused;then it gripped, slid along, gripped again. 

"Where did you get those muscles?" he demanded. 

"Oh, I've wrestled a bit--foot and horseback both, " said the other, modestly omitting to mention that he had won the cowboy equinewrestling-match at Denver two years before. 

"Hum! That'll be all right. But why did you tell those people your namewas Daddleskink?"

"I didn't. Little Miss--Miss Wayne did. "

"So she did. Mystery upon mystery. Well, I'm only the counsel in thiscase; but it isn't safe, you know, to conceal anything from yourlawyer. "

At this point the voice of royalty was heard demanding the Tyro. Thebaby, he was informed, wished to see him. If this were so, that InfantExtraordinary showed no evidence of it, being wholly engrossed with thefascinations of his new mother-by-adoption. However, the chance wasafforded for the reigning lady to inform her slave that there was to bedancing that evening in the grand salon, and would he be present?

He would! By all his gods, hopes, and ambitions he would!

As he turned by his liege lady's side, an officer approached andaccosted him. 

"The captain would like to see you in his cabin at once, if you please. "

 * * * * *

Among those present at the evening's dance was _not_ Alexander ForsythSmith, _alias_ Sanders Daddleskink. Great was the wrath of Little MissGrouch. 

IV

 Fourth day out. 

 I don't like this ship or anything about it; its laws, its customs, its manners, methods or morals. 

 I'm agin the government. Maritime law gives me a cramp. Me for the black flag with the skull and cross-bones. 

 As for this old Atlantic, I'd as soon be at the bottom as at the top--

 SMITH'S LOG. 

Peace reigned over that portion of the Atlantic occupied by the ClanMacgregor. The wind had died away in fitful puffs. The waves hadsubsided. Marked accessions to the deck population were in evidence. Everybody looked cheerful. But Achilles, which is to say the Tyro, sulked in his tent, otherwise Stateroom 123 D. 

On deck, Little Miss Grouch sat, outwardly radiant of countenance butprivately nursing her second grievance against her slave for that hehad failed to obey her behest and appear at the previous evening'sdance. Around her, in various attitudes of adoration, sat her court. 

Mrs. Charlton Denyse tramped back and forth like a sentinel, watching, not too unobtrusively, the possibly future Mrs. Remsen Van Dam, for sheexpected developments. In the smoking-room Judge Enderby and Dr. Alderson indulged in bridge of a concentrated, reflective, andcontentious species. As each practiced a different system, their viewsat the end of every rubber were the delight of their opponents. They hadfinished their final fiasco, and were standing at the door, exchangingmutual recriminations, when the Tyro with a face of deepest gloom boredown upon them. 

"How much of the ship does the captain own, Dr. Alderson?" he asked, without any preliminaries. 

"He doesn't own any of it. "

"How much of it does he boss, then?"

"All of it. "

"And everybody on board?"

"Yes. "

"No one has any rights at all?"

"None that the captain can't overrule. "

"Then he can put me in irons if he likes. "

"Why, yes, if there be any such thing aboard, which I doubt. What onearth does he want to put you in irons for?"

"He doesn't. At least he didn't look as if he did. But he seems to thinkhe has to, unless I obey orders. He threatened to have me shut up in mycabin. "

"Hullo! And what have you been doing that you shouldn't do?"

"Talking to Little Miss Gr--Wayne. "

"If that were a punishable offense, " put in Judge Enderby, in hisweighty voice, "half the men aboard would be in solitary confinement. "

"I wish they were, " said the Tyro fervently. 

Judge Enderby chuckled. "Do you understand that the embargo is general?"

"Applies only to me, as far as I can make out. "

"That's curious, " said the archæologist. "What did you say to thecaptain?"

"Told him I'd think it over. "

Judge Enderby laughed outright. "That must have occasioned him a milddegree of surprise, " he observed. 

"I didn't wait to see. I went away from that place before I lost mytemper. "

"A good rule, " approved Dr. Alderson. "Still, I'm afraid he's got you. What do you think, Enderby?"

"I don't think non-professionally on legal matters. "

"But what can the boy do?"

"Give me five dollars. "

"What?" queried the Tyro. 

"Give him five dollars, " directed Alderson. 

The Tyro extracted a bill from his modest roll and handed it over. 

"Thank you, " said the jurist. "That is my retainer. You have employedcounsel. "

"The best counsel in New York, " added Dr. Alderson. 

"The best counsel in New York, " agreed the judge with unmoved solemnity;"in certain respects. Specializes in maritime and cardiac complications. You go out on deck and walk some air into Alderson's brain until I comeback. He needs it. He doesn't know enough not to return a suit when hispartner leads the nine. "

"When one's partner is stupid enough to open a suit--" began the other;but the critic was gone. "So you've found out that Little Miss Grouch isCecily Wayne, have you?" Alderson observed, turning to the Tyro. 

"Whatever that may mean, " assented the Tyro. 

"It means a good deal. It means that she's Hurry-up Wayne's daughter forone thing. "

"That also fails to ring any bell. You see, I've been so long out of theworld. Besides, I don't want to be told about her. I'm under bonds. "

"Very well. But the _paterfamilias_ is a tough customer. I looked upsome old records for him once, and was obliged to tell him a few plainfacts in plainer English. He appeared to want me to give false experttestimony. To do him justice, he didn't resent my well-chosen remarks;only observed that he could doubtless hire other historians withdifferent views. "

"Was that about the Battery Place house?"

"Precisely. But how do you know--Oh, of course! You've got a sort ofintangible interest in that, haven't you? Through your maternalgrandmother. "

"I've got more than that. I've got an option. "

"Great Rameses! Are you the mysterious holder of the option?" Dr. Alderson laughed long and softly. "This is lovely! Does she know?"

"If she does, it hasn't shaken her confidence. "

"Hire Enderby to unravel that, " chuckled the other. "Here he comes backalready. His interview must have been brief. "

The lawyer approached, halted, set his back against the rail, and gazedgrimly at the Tyro over his lowered spectacles. His client bracedhimself for the impending examination. 

"Young man, " the judge inquired, "what do you legally call yourself?"

"Smith. Alexander Forsyth Smith. "

"What do you call yourself when you don't call yourself Smith?"

"Er--you heard! I've sometimes been called Daddleskink by those whodon't know any better. That was only a little joke. "

"It's a joke which Captain Herford seems to have taken to heart. Hethinks you're a dangerous criminal traveling under the subtle _alias_ ofSmith. "

"Can he lock me up for that?"

"Doubtless he can. But I don't think he will. Who's been sending backwireless messages about you?"

"Wireless? About me? Heaven knows; I don't. "

"Could it have been Mrs. Charlton Denyse?"

"If they were uncomplimentary, it might. I'm afraid she doesn't approveof me. "

"They seem to have been distinctly unfavorable. That Denyse female, "continued the veteran lawyer, "is a raddled old polecat. Mischief is herspecialty. How did she get on your trail?"

The Tyro explained. 

"Hum! I'll bet a cigar with a gold belt around its stomach that thecaptain wishes she were out yonder playing with the porpoises. Hedoesn't look happy. "

"What ails him?" inquired Dr. Alderson. 

"Five different messages from Henry Clay Wayne, to begin with. Also, Ifear my interview with him didn't have a sedative effect. "

"What did you say to him?" asked his client. 

"I informed him that I'd been retained by our young friend here, andthat if he were restrained of his liberty without due cause we wouldpromptly bring suit against the line. Thereupon he tried to bluff me. It's a melancholy thing, Alderson, " sighed the tough old warrior of athousand legal battles, "to look as easy and browbeatable as I do. Itwastes a lot of my time--and other people's. "

"Did it waste much of the captain's on this occasion?"

"No. He threatened to lock me up, too. I told him if he did, he and hiscompany would have another batch of suits; a suit for every day in theweek, like the youth that married the tailor's daughter. 

"He called me some sort of sea-lawyer, and was quite excited until Icalmed him with my card. When I left he was looking at my card as if ithad just bitten him, and sending out a summons for the wireless operatorthat had all the timbre of an S. O. S. Call. Young man, he'll want to seeyou about three o'clock this afternoon if I'm not mistaken. "

"What shall I do about it?" asked the Tyro. 

"Give me five dollars. Thank you. I never work for nothing. Against myprinciples. I'm now employed for the case. Go and see him, and keep astiff upper lip. Now, Alderson, your theory that a man must indicateevery high card in his hand before--"

Perceiving that he was no longer essential to the conversation the Tyrodrifted away. Luncheon was a gloomy meal. It was with rather a feelingof relief that he answered the summons to the captain's room two hoursthereafter. 

"Mr. Daddlesmith, " began that harried official. 

"That isn't my name, " said the Tyro firmly. 

"Well, Mr. Daddleskink, or Smith, or whatever you choose to callyourself, I've had an interview with your lawyer. "

"Yes? Judge Enderby?"

"Judge Enderby. He threatens to sue, if you are confined to yourstateroom. "

"That's our intention. "

"I've no lawyer aboard, and I can't risk it. So I'll not lock you up. But I'll tell you what I can and will do. If you so much as address oneword to Miss Wayne for the rest of this voyage, I'll lock _her_ up andkeep her locked up. "

The Tyro went red and then white. "I don't believe you've got thepower, " he said. 

"I have; and I'll use it. Her father gives me full authority. Make nomistake about the matter, Mr. Smith: one word to her, and down she goes. And I shall instruct every officer and steward to be on watch. "

"As Judge Enderby has probably already told you what he thinks of yourmethods" (this was a random shot, but the marksman observed withsatisfaction that the captain winced), "it would be superfluous for meto add anything. "

"Superfluous and risky, " retorted the commander. 

The Tyro went out on deck because he felt that he needed air. Malignfate would have it that, as he stood at the rail, brooding over thisunsurmountable complication, Little Miss Grouch should appear, radiant, glorious of hue, and attended by the galaxy of swains. She gave him thelightest of passing nods as she went by. He raised his cap gloomily. 

"Your queer-named friend doesn't look happy, " commented Lord Guenn ather elbow. 

"Go and tell him I wish to speak with him, " ordered the delectabletyrant. 

The Englishman did so. 

"I'm not feeling well, " apologized the Tyro. "Please ask her to excuseme. "

"You'd best ask her yourself, " suggested the other. "I'm not much of adiplomat. "

"No. I'm going below, " said the wretched Tyro. 

Well for him had he gone at once. But he lingered, and when he turnedagain he was frozen with horror to see her bearing down upon him withall sails set and colors flying. 

"Why weren't you at the dance last night?" she demanded. 

He looked at her with a piteous eye and shook his head. 

"Not feeling fit?"

Another mute and miserable denial. 

"I don't believe it! You aren't a bit pea-green. Quite red, on thecontrary. "

Silence from the victim. 

"Besides, you know, you're the seaworthy child, " she mocked. 

 "'Whose feelings could never be riled. While the porpoises porped And the passengers torped, _He_ sat on the lee rail and smiled. '

Here's the lee rail. Haven't you a single smile about you anywhere?"

He shook his head with infinite vigor. 

"Can't you even speak? Is that the way a Perfect Pig should act?" shepersisted, impishly determined to force him out of his extraordinarysilence. "Have you made a vow? Or what?"

At that moment the Tyro caught sight of a gold-laced individualadvancing upon them. With a stifled groan he turned his back full uponthe Wondrous Vision, and at that moment would have been willing toreward handsomely any wave that would have reached up and snatched himinto the bosom of the Atlantic. 

Behind him he could hear a stifled little gasp, then a stamp of a foot(he shrank with involuntary memory), then retreating steps. In aconquering career Miss Cecily Wayne had never before been snubbed by anymale creature. If her wishes could have been transformed into fact, theyearned-for wave might have been spared any trouble; a swifter and morewithering death would have been the Tyro's immediate portion. 

The officer passed, leveling a baleful eye, and the Tyro staggered tothe passageway, and with lowered head plunged directly into the midst ofJudge Enderby. 

"Here!" grunted the victim. "Get out of my waistcoat. What's the matterwith the boy?"

In his woe the Tyro explained everything. 

"Tch--tch--tch, " clucked the leader of the New York bar, like a troubledhen. "That's bad. "

"Can he do it?" besought the Tyro. "Can he lock her up?"

"I'm afraid there's no doubt of it. "

"Then what on earth shall I do?"

"Give me five--No; I forgot. I've had my fee. "

"It's rather less than your customary one, I'm afraid, " said the Tyro, with an effortful smile. 

"Reckoned in thousands it would be about right. But this is different. This is serious. I've got to think about this. Meantime you keep awayfrom that pink-and-white peril. Understand?"

"Yes, sir, " said the Tyro miserably. 

"But there's no reason why you shouldn't write a note if you think fit. "

"So there isn't!" The Tyro brightened amazingly. "I'll do it now. "

But that note was never delivered. For, coming on deck after writing it, its author met Little Miss Grouch face to face, and was the recipient ofa cut so direct, so coldly smiling, so patent to all the ship-world, soindicative of permanent and hopeless unconsciousness of his existence, that he tore up the epistle and a playful porpoise rolled the fragmentsdeep into the engulfing ocean. Perhaps it was just as well, for, asJudge Enderby remarked that night to his friend Dr. Alderson, while thetwo old hard-faced soft-hearts sat smoking their good-night cigar overthe Tyro's troubles, in the course of a dissertation which would havevastly astonished his _confrères_ of the metropolitan bar:--

"It's fortunate that the course of true love never does run smooth. Ifit did, marriages would have to be made chiefly in heaven. Mighty few ofthem would get themselves accomplished on earth. For love is, by nature, an obstacle race. Run on the flat, without any difficulties, it wouldlose its zest both for pursuer and pursued, and Judge Cupid would aswell shut up court and become an advocate of race suicide. But as forthat spade lead, Alderson--are you listening?"

"She's a devilishly pretty girl, " grunted Dr. Alderson. 

V

 Fifth day out. A dull, dead, blank unprofitable calm. Nothing doing; nothing to do. Wish I'd gone steerage. 

 SMITH'S LOG. 

Legal employment is susceptible of almost indefinite expansion. Thusruminated Judge Enderby, rising early with a brisk appetite for romance, as he fingered the two five-dollar bills received from his newestclient. 

For that client he was jovially minded to do his best. The young fellowhad taken a strong hold upon his liking. Moreover, the judge was aconfirmed romantic, though he would have resented being thus catalogued. He chose to consider his inner stirrings of sentimentalism in thepresent case as due to a fancy for minor diplomacies and delicatenegotiations. One thing he was sure of: that he was enjoying himselfunusually, and that the Tyro was like to get very good value for hisfee. 

To which end, shortly after breakfast he broke through the cordonsurrounding Miss Cecily Wayne and bore her off for a promenade. 

"But it's not alone for your _beaux yeux_, " he explained to her. "I'macting for a client. "

"How exciting! But you're not going to browbeat me as you did poor papawhen you had him on the stand?" said Miss Wayne, exploring the gnarledold face with soft eyes. 

"Browbeat the court!" cried the legal light (who had frequently donethat very thing). "You're the tribunal of highest jurisdiction in thiscase. "

"Then I must look very solemn and judicial. " Which she proceeded to dowith such ravishing effect that three young men approaching from theopposite direction lost all control of their steering-gear and wereprecipitated into the scuppers by the slow tilt of a languidground-swell. 

"If you must, you must, " allowed the judge, "though, " he added with aglance at the struggling group, "it's rather dangerous. I'm approachingyou, " he continued, "on behalf of a client suddenly stricken dumb. "

Miss Wayne's shapely nose elevated itself to a marked angle. "I don'tthink I want to hear about him, " she observed coldly. 

"He's in dire distress over his affliction. "

"I have troubles of my own. I'm deaf. "

"Then suppose I should express to you in the sign language that myclient--"

"I don't want to hear it--see it--know anything about it. " The amount ofdetermination which Miss Wayne's chin contrived to express seemed quiteincompatible with the adorable dimple nestling in the center thereof. 

"Must I return the fee, then?"

"What fee?"

"The victim of this sudden misfortune has retained me--"

"To act as go-between?"

"Well, no; not precisely. But to represent him in all matters of importon this voyage. On two occasions he has paid over the sum of fivedollars. I never work for nothing. Would you deprive a superannuatedlawyer of the most promising chance to earn an honest penny which haspresented itself in a year?"

"Poor old gentleman!" she laughed. "Far be it from me to ruin yourprospects. But if Mr. Daddle--if your client, " pursued the girl withheightened color, "has anything to say to me, he'd best say it himself. "

"As I have already explained to the learned court, he can't. He's dumb. "

"Why is he dumb?"

"Ah! What an ally is curiosity! My unhappy client is dumb by order. "

"Whose order?"

"The captain's. "

"Has the captain told him he mustn't speak?"

"To you. "

All of Miss Wayne's dimples sprang to their places and stood atattention. "How lovely! What for? I'll make him. "

"Ah! What an ally is opposition, " sighed the astute old warrior. "But Ifear you can't. "

"Can't I! Wait and see. "

"No. He is afraid. "

"He doesn't look a victim of timidity. "

"Not for himself. But unpleasant things will happen to a friend--well, let us say an acquaintance for whom he has no small regard--if hedisobeys. "

"Oh, dealer in mysteries, tell me more!"

"Thou art the woman. "

"I? What can possibly happen to me?"

"Solitary confinement. "

"I don't think that's a very funny joke, " said she contemptuously. 

"Indeed, it's no joke. Your eyes will grow dim, your appetite will wane, your complexion will suffer, that tolerable share of good looks which acasual Providence has bestowed upon you--"

"Please don't tease the court, Judge Enderby. What is it all about?"

"In words of one syllable: if the boy speaks to you once more, you're tobe sentenced to your stateroom. "

"How intolerable!" she flashed. "Who on this ship has the right--"

"Nobody. But on shore you possess a stern and rockbound father who, thanks to the malevolent mechanism of an evil genius named Marconi, hasbeen able to exert his authority through the captain, acting _in locoparentis_, if I may venture to employ a tongue more familiar to thislearned court than to myself. "

"And that's the reason Mr. Daddleskink, " she got it out, with a braveeffort, "wouldn't speak to me yesterday?"

"The sole and only reason! Being a minor--"

"Gracious! Isn't he twenty-one?"

"If the court will graciously permit me to conclude my sentence--being aminor, you still--"

"I'm not a minor. "

"You're not?"

"Certainly not. I was twenty-one last month. "

"Your father gave the captain to understand that you were under age. "

"Papa's memory sometimes plays tricks on him, " said the maiden demurely. 

"Or on others. I noticed that in the Mid & Mud Railroad investigation. You're sure you're over twenty-one?"

"Of course I'm sure. "

"But can you prove it?"

"Gracious! How are such things proved? Is it necessary for me to proveit?"

"It would be helpful. "

"What am I to do?"

"Give me five dollars, " said the judge promptly. 

"I haven't five dollars with me. "

"Get it, then. I never work for nothing. "

The ranging eye of Miss Wayne fell upon a figure in a steamer-chair, allhuddled up behind a widespread newspaper. There was somethingsuspiciously familiar about the figure. Miss Wayne bore down upon it. The paper--five days old--trembled. She peered over the top of it. Behind and below crouched the Tyro pretending to be asleep. 

"Good-morning, " said Miss Wayne. 

A delicate but impressive snore answered her. 

"Mr. Daddleskink!"

No answer. But the face of the victim twitched painfully. It is buthuman for the bravest martyr to wince under torture. 

"Wake up! I know you're not asleep. I _will_ be answered!" She stampedher small but emphatic foot on the deck. The legs of the Tyro curled upunder as instinctively as those of an assailed spider. 

"There! You see! You needn't pretend. Won't you please speak to me?" Thetormentor was having a beautiful time with her revenge. 

"Go away, " said a hoarse whisper from behind the newspaper. 

"I'm in trouble. " The voice sounded very childlike in its plea. The Tyrowrithed. 

"Even if you don't like me"--the Tyro writhed some more--"and don'tconsider me fit to speak to"--the Tyro's contortions were fairlyLaocoönish--"would you--couldn't you lend me five dollars?"

The Tyro blinked rapidly. 

"I need it awfully, " pursued the malicious maiden. 

Desperation marked itself on his brow. He scrambled from his chair, plunged his hand into his pocket, extracted a bill, transferred it toher waiting fingers, and hustled for the nearest doorway. He didn'treach it. The august undulations of Mrs. Charlton Denyse's formintercepted him. 

"This is shameless!" she declared. 

For once the abused youth was almost ready to agree with her. 

[Illustration: "COULDN'T YOU LEND ME FIVE DOLLARS?"]

"What?" he said weakly. 

"Don't quibble with me, sir. I saw, if I did not hear. You passed MissWayne a note. I am astonished!" she said, in the tone of a scandalizedSunday-School teacher. 

The Tyro rapidly reflected that she would have been considerably moreastonished could she have known the nature of the "note. " From the tailof his eye he saw the recipient in close conversation with JudgeEnderby. Remembering his own dealings with that eminent fee-hunter hedrew a rapid conclusion. 

"Would you like to know what was in that note?" he inquired. 

"As a prospective connection of Miss Wayne's--"

"If so, ask Judge Enderby. "

"Why should I ask Judge Enderby?"

"Because, unless I'm mistaken, he's got the note now. "

"I shall not ask Judge Enderby. I shall report the whole disgracefulaffair to the captain. "

"Don't do that!" cried the Tyro in alarm. 

"Perhaps that will put an end to your vulgar persecution of aninexperienced young girl. "

"O Lord!" groaned the Tyro, setting out in pursuit of the lawyer as theprotector of social sanctities turned away. "Now I _have_ done it!"

He caught up with the judge and his companion at the turn of the deck. "May I have a word with you, Judge?" he cried. 

"I'm busy, " said the lawyer gruffly. "I'm engaged in an importantconsultation. "

"But this can't wait, " cried the unfortunate. 

"Anything can wait, " said the old man. "But youth, " he added in anundertone. 

"You've got to listen!" The Tyro planted himself, a very solid, set bulkof athletic young manhood, in the jurist's path. 

"In the face of force and coercion, " sighed the other. 

"I've been seen speaking to Miss--Miss--"

"Grouch, " supplied the indicated damsel sweetly. 

"Mrs. Denyse saw us. She has gone to report to the captain. "

"Lovely!" said the lawyer. "Beautiful! Enter the Wicked Godmother. Thefairy-tale is working out absolutely according to Grimm. "

"But Miss--"

"Grouch, " chirped the young lady melodiously. 

"--will be locked up--"

"In the donjon-keep, " chuckled the lawyer. "Chapter the seventh. Whosays that romance has died out of the world?"

"But if Mrs. Denyse carries out her threat and tells the captain--"

"The Wicked Ogre, you mean. If you love me, the Wicked Ogre. And he willlock the Lovely Princess in the donjon-keep until the dumb but devotedPrince arrives in time--just in the nick of time--to effect a rescue. That comes in the last chapter. And then, of course, they were mar--"

"I'm tired of fairy-tales, " said Little Miss Grouch hastily. "It won'tbe a bit funny to be locked up--"

"With three grains of corn per day and a cup of sour wine. HansChristian Andersen never did anything like this!" crowed the enchantedlawyer. 

"Meantime, " observed the Tyro, with the calm of despair, "Mrs. Denysehas found the captain. "

"Presto, change!" said Judge Enderby, catching each by an arm andhurtling them around the curve of the cabin. "We come back to the dullreality of facts, retainers and advice. Fairy Prince, --young man, Imean, --you go and watch for icebergs over the port bow until sent for. Miss Wayne, you come with me to a secluded spot where the captain can'tdiscover us for an hour or so. I have a deep suspicion that he isn'treally in any great haste to find you. "

As soon as they were seated in the refuge which the old gentleman found, he turned upon her. 

"What are you trying to do to that young man?"

"Nothing, " said she with slanted eyes. 

"Don't look at me that way. It's a waste of good material. Remember, he's my client and I'm bound to protect his interests. Are you trying todrive him mad?"

Little Miss Grouch's wrongs swept over her memory. "He said I washomely. And red-nosed. And had a voice like a sick crow. And he calledme Little Miss Grouch. I'm getting even, " she announced with delicatesatisfaction. 

The old man cackled with glee. "Blind as well as dumb! There's a littlegodling who is also blind and--well, you know the proverb: 'When theblind lead the blind, both shall fall in the ditch. ' Look well to yourfootsteps, O Princess. "

"Is that legal advice?"

"Oh, that reminds me! You don't chance to have any documentary proof ofyour birth, do you?"

"With me? Gracious, no! People don't travel with the family Bible, dothey?"

"They ought to, in melodrama. And this is certainly someten-twenty-thirty show! Wise people occasionally have passports. "

"Nobody ever accused me of wisdom. Besides, I left in a hurry. "

"To escape the false prince. More fairy-tale. "

"But I _am_ twenty-one and I've got the very watch that papa gave me onmy birthday. "

"Let me see it. "

She drew out a beautiful little diamond-studded chronometer of foreignand very expensive make. 

"Most inappropriate for a child of your age, " commented the otherseverely. "Ha! Here we are. Fairy Godfather--that's me--to the rescue. "He read from the inner case of the watch. "'To my darling Cecily on her21st birthday, from Father. ' Not strictly legal, but good enough, " heobserved. "We shall now go forth and kill the dragon. That is to say, tell the captain the time of day. "

"What fun! But--Judge Enderby. "

"Well?"

"Don't tell Mr. --your other client, will you?"

"Why not?"

"I don't want him to know. "

"But, you see, my duty to him as his legal adviser certainly demandsthat--"

"You're _my_ legal adviser, too. Isn't my five dollars as good as his?Particularly when it really is his five dollars?"

"Allowed. "

"Well, then, my age is a confidential communication and--what do youcall it?--privileged. "

"Oh, wise young judge! But, fair Portia, don't let me perish ofcuriosity. Why?"

"My revenge isn't complete yet. "

"Look out for the inner edge of that tool, " he warned. 

With the timepiece in his hand, Judge Enderby bearded the autocrat ofthe Clan Macgregor on his own deck to such good purpose that Miss CecilyWayne presently learned of the end of her troubles so far as prospectiveincarceration went. The knowledge, preserved intact for her own uses, put in her hand a dire weapon for the discomfiture of the Tyro. 

Thereafter the ship's company was treated to the shameful spectacle of ayoung man hunted, harried, and beset by a Diana of the decks; cheviedout of comfortable chairs, flushed from odd nooks and corners, baitedopenly in saloon and reading-room, trailed as with the wile of theserpent along devious passageways and through crowded assemblages, hareto her hound, up and down, high and low, until he became a byword amonghis companions for the stricken eye of eternal watchfulness. Sometimesthe persecutress stalked him, unarmed; anon she threatened with afive-dollar bill. Now she trailed in a deadly silence; again, when therewere few to hear, she bayed softly upon the spoor, and ever in her eyesgleamed the wild light and wild laughter of the chase. 

Once she penned him. He had ensconced himself in a corner behind one ofthe lifeboats, where, with uncanny instinct, she spied him. Before hecould escape, she had shut off egress. 

"How do you do?" she said demurely. 

He took off his cap, but with a sidelong eye seemed to be measuring thejump to the deck below. 

"You've forgotten me, I'm afraid. I'm Little Miss Grouch. Would thishelp you to remember?"

She extended a five-dollar bill. He took it with the expression of oneto whom a nice, shiny blade has just been handed for purposes ofhara-kiri. 

"I have missed you, " she pursued with diabolical plaintiveness. "Ourchild--our adopted child, " she corrected, the pink running up under herskin, "has been crying for you. "

"Go away!" said the Tyro hoarsely. 

"Are these the manners of a Perfect Pig?" she reproached him. And withadorable sauciness she warbled a nursery ditty:--

 "Lady once loved a pig. 'Honey, ' said she, 'Pig, will you marry me?' 'Wrrumph!' said he. 

"I can't grunt very nicely, " she admitted. "_You_ do it. "

"Go away, " he implored, gazing from side to side like a trapped animal. "Somebody'll see you. They'll lock you up. "

"Me? Why?" Her eyes opened wide in the loveliness of feigned surprise. "Much more likely you. I doubt whether you really should be at large. Such a queer-acting person!"

"I--I'll write and explain, " he said desperately. 

"If you do, I'll show the letter to the captain. "

He regarded her with a stricken gaze. "Wh--why the captain?"

"Being a helpless and unchaperoned young lady, " she explained primly, "he is my natural guardian and protector. I think I see him coming now. "

Legend is enriched by the picturesque fates of those who havehistorically affronted Heaven with prevarications no more flagrant thanthis. But did punishment, then, descend upon the fair, false, and frailperpetrator of this particular taradiddle? Not at all. The Tyro was thesole sufferer. Had the word been a bullet he could scarcely have droppedmore swiftly. When next he appeared to the enraptured gaze of theheckler, he was emerging, _ventre à terre_, from beneath the far end ofthe life-boat. 

"I'll be in my deck-chair between eight and nine to receive explanationsand apologies, " was her Parthian shot, as he rose and fled. 

At the time named, the Tyro took particularly good care to be at theextreme other side of the deck, where he maintained a wary lookout. Nottwice should the huntress catch him napping. But he reckoned without heremissaries. Lord Guenn presently sauntered up, paused, and surveyed thequarry with a twinkling eye. 

"I'm commanded to bring you in, dead or alive, " he said. 

"It will be dead, then, " said the Tyro. 

"What's the little game? Some of your American rag-josh, I believe youcall it?"

"Something of that nature, " admitted the other. 

"This will be a blow to Cissy, " observed his lordship. "She's used tohaving 'em come to heel at the first whistle. I say, Mr. Daddleskink--"

"My name's not Daddleskink, " the Tyro informed him morosely. 

"I beg your pardon if I mispronounced it. How--"

"Smith, " said the proprietor of that popular cognomen. 

"I say, " cried the Briton in vast surprise, "that's worse than ourpronouncing 'Castelreagh' 'Derby' for short!"

"S-m-i-t-h, Smith. The other was a joke and a very bum one! AlexanderForsyth Smith from now on. "

"Hullo! What price the Forsyth?" Lord Guenn regarded him with increasedinterest. "Did Miss Wayne say something about your having an interest inher house on the Battery?"

"My house, " corrected the other. "Yes, I've got an old option, dependingon a ground-lease, that's come down in the family. "

"What family?"

"The Forsyths. My grandmother was born in that house. "

"Then our portrait of the Yank--of the American who looks like you atGuenn Oaks is your great-grandfather. "

"I suppose so. "

"Well met!" said Lord Guenn. "There are some sketches of the Forsythplace as it used to be at Guenn Oaks that would interest you. Myancestor was a bit of a dab with his brush. "

"Indeed they'd interest me, " returned the Tyro, "if they show the oldboundary-lines. My claim on which I hope to buy in the property rests onthe original lot, and that's in question now. There are some otherpeople trying to hold me off--But that's another matter, " he concludedhastily, as he recalled who his rival was. 

"Quite the same matter. It's Cecily Wayne, isn't it?"

"Her father, I suppose. And as far as any evidence in your possessiongoes, of course I couldn't expect--considering that Miss Wayne'sinterests are involved--"

"Why on earth not, my dear fellow?"

"Well, I suppose--that is--I thought perhaps you--" floundered the Tyro, reddening. 

Lord Guenn laughed outright. "You thought I was in the universal hunt?No, indeed! You see, I married Cecily's cousin. As for the house, I'mwith you. I believe in keeping those things in the family. I say, whereare you going when we land?"

"London, I suppose. "

"Why not run up to Guenn Oaks for a week and see your great-grandad?Lady Guenn would be delighted. Cissy will be there, I shouldn't wonder. "

"That's mighty good of you, " said the Tyro. A sudden thought amusedhim. "Won't your ancestors turn over in their graves at having ahaberdasher at Guenn Oaks?"

"They would rise up to welcome any of the blood of Spencer Forsyth, "said the Briton seriously. "But what a people you are!" he continued. "Now an English haberdasher may be a very admirable person, but--"

"Hold on a moment. I'm not really a haberdasher. While I was in collegeI invented an easy-slipping tie. A friend patented it and I still drawan income from it. It's just another of the tangle of mistakes I'vegotten into. As people have got the other notion, I don't care tocorrect it. "

"That rotter, Sperry, " said Lord Guenn with a grin--"I was glad to seeyou bowl him over. He's just a bit too impressed with his money. Fishedall over the shop for an invitation to Guenn Oaks, and when he couldn'tget it, wanted to buy the place. Bounder! Then you'll come?"

"Yes. I'll be delighted to. "

"Jove! I'm forgetting my mission. Are you going to obey the imperialsummons?"

"Can't possibly, " said the Tyro, "I'm very ill. Tell her, will you?"

Lord Guenn nodded. "Perhaps one of you will condescend to let me inpresently on all these plots and counterplots, " he remarked as he walkedaway. 

Left to himself the Tyro floated away on cloudy imaginings of gold androse-color. A week--a whole week--with Little Miss Grouch; a week offreedom on good, solid land, beyond the tyranny of captains, theespionage of self-appointed chaperons, and the interference of countlesssurrounding ninnies; a week on every day of which he could watch theplay of light and color in the face which had not been absent from histhoughts one minute since--

_Thump!_ It was as if a huge fist had thrust up out of the ocean'sdepths and jolted the Clan Macgregor in the ribs. Several minor impactsjarred beneath his feet. Then the engines stopped, and the great hulkbegan to swing slowly to starboard in the still water. 

Excited talk broke out. Questions to which nobody made reply filled theair. An officer hurried past. 

"No. No damage done, " he cried back mechanically over his shoulder. 

Presently the engine resumed work. The rhythm appeared to the Tyro todrag. Dr. Alderson came along. 

"Nothing at all, " he said with the _sang-froid_ of the experiencedtraveler. "Some little hitch in the machinery. "

"Do you notice that there's a slant to the deck?" asked the Tyro in alow voice. 

"Yes. Keep it to yourself. Most people won't notice it. " And he walkedon, stopping to chat with an acquaintance here and there, and doing hisunofficial part to diffuse confidence. 

One idea seized and possessed the Tyro. If that gently tilted deck meantdanger, his place was on the farther side of the ship. Quite casually, to avoid any suggestion of haste, he wandered around. 

Little Miss Grouch was sitting in her chair, alone and quiet. As theTyro slipped, soft-footed, into the shelter of a shadow, he saw herstretch her hand out to a box of candy. She selected a round sweet, anddropped it on the deck. It rolled slowly into the scuppers. Again shetried the experiment, with the same result. She started to get up, changed her mind and settled back to wait. 

The Tyro, leaning against the cabin, also waited. With no apparentcause--for he was sure he had made no noise--she turned her head andlooked into the sheltering shadow. She smiled, a very small but verycontented smile. 

An officer came along the deck. 

"The port screw, " he paused to tell the waiting girl, "struck a bit ofwreckage and broke a blade. Absolutely no danger. We will be delayed alittle getting to port, that's all. I am glad you had the nerve to sitquiet, " he added. 

"I didn't know what else to do, " she said. 

She rose and gathered her belongings to her. Going to the entrance shepassed so near that he could have touched her. Yet she gave no sign ofknowledge that he was there; he was ready to believe that he had beenmistaken in thinking that her regard had penetrated his retreat. In thedoorway she turned. 

"Good-night, " she said, in a voice that thrilled in his pulses. "And--thank you. "

VI

 Sixth day out. Bump! And we're three days late. Suits me. I don't care if we never get in. 

 SMITH'S LOG. 

Whoso will, may read in the Hydrographic Office records, the fate of thesteamship Sarah Calkins. Old was Sarah; weather-scarred, wave-battered, suffering from all the internal disorders to which machinery is prone;tipsy of gait, defiant of her own helm, a very hag of the high seas. 

Few mourned when she went down in Latitude 43° 10' North, Longitude 20°12' West--few indeed, except for the maritime insurance companies. Theylamented and with cause, for the Sarah Calkins was loaded with largequantities of rock, crated in such a manner as to appear valuable, andto induce innocent agents to insure them as pianos, furniture, andsundry merchandise. Such is the guile of them that go down to the seain ships. 

For the first time in her disreputable career, the Sarah Calkins obeyedorders, and went to the bottom opportunely in sight of a Danish trampwhich took off her unalarmed captain and crew. Let us leave her to herdeep-sea rest. 

The evil that ships do lives after them, and the good is not alwaysinterred with their bones. For the better or worse of Little Miss Grouchand the Tyro, the Sarah Calkins, of whom neither of them had ever heard, left her incidental wreckage strewn over several leagues of Atlantic. One bit of it became involved with the Clan Macgregor's screw, to whateffect has already been indicated. Hours later a larger mass came along, under the impulsion of half a gale, and punched a hole through theleviathan's port side as if it were but paper, just far enough above thewater-line so that every alternate wave could make an easy entry. 

The Tyro came up out of deep slumber with a plunge. He heard cries fromwithout, and a strongly bawled order. Above him there was a scurry offeet. The engines stopped. Three bells struck just as if nothing hadhappened. He opened his door and the coldest water he had ever felt onhis skin closed about his feet. The passageway was awash. 

Jumping into enough clothing to escape the rigor of the law, the Tyroran across to 129 D and knocked on the door. It opened. Little MissGrouch stood there. Her eyes were sweet with sleep. A long, soft, fluffywhite coat fell to her little bare feet. Her hair, half-loosed, clustered warmly close to the flushed warmth of her face. The Tyrostood, stricken for the moment into silence and forgetfulness by thepower of her beauty. 

"What is it?" she asked softly. 

He found speech. "Something has happened to the ship. "

"I knew you'd come, " she said with quiet confidence. 

"Aren't you afraid?"

"I _was_ afraid. "

A roll of the ship brought the chill water up about her feet. Sheshivered and winced. Stooping he caught her under the knees, and liftedher to his arms. Feeling the easy buoyancy of his strength beneath her, she lapsed against his shoulder, wholly trustful, wholly content. Through the passage he splashed, around the turn, and up the broadcompanionway. Not until he had found a chair in the near corner of thelower saloon did he set her down. Released from his arms, she realizedwith a swift shock the loss of all sense of security. She shot a quickglance at him, half terrified, half wistful. But the Tyro was now allfor action. 

"What clothes do you most need?" he asked sharply. 

"Clothes? I don't know. " She found it hard to adjust the tumult whichhad suddenly sprung up within her, to such considerations. 

"Shoes and stockings. A heavy coat. Your warmest dress--where is it?What else?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Go back after your things. "

"You mustn't! I won't let you. It's dangerous. "

"Later it may be. Not now. "

She stretched out her hands to him. "Please don't leave me. "

He took the imploring little hands in his own firm grip. "Listen. There's no telling what has happened. We may have to go on deck. We mayeven be ordered to the boats. Warm clothing is an absolute necessity. Think now, and tell me what you need. "

She gave him a quick but rather sketchy list. "And your own overcoat andsweater--or I won't let you go. Promise. " Her fingers turned in his andcaught at them. 

"Very well, tyrant. I'll be back in three minutes. "

Had he known what was awaiting him he might have promised with lessconfidence. For there was a dragon in the path in the person of youngMr. Diedrick Sperry, breathing, if not precisely flames, at least, fumes, for he had sat late in the smoking-room, consuming much liquor. At sight of the Tyro, his joke which he had so highly esteemed, returnedto his mind. 

"Haberdashin' 'round again, hey?" he shouted, blocking the passagehalfway down to Stateroom 129. "Where's Cissy Wayne?"

"Safe, " said the Tyro briefly. 

"Safe be damned! You tell me where before you move a step farther. " Hestretched out a hand which would have done credit to a longshoreman. 

Fight was the last thing that the Tyro wished. More important businesswas pressing. But as Sperry was blocking the way to the conclusion ofthat business, it was manifest that he must be disposed of. Here was notime for diplomacy. The Tyro struck at his bigger opponent, the blowfalling short. With a shout, the other rushed him, and went right onover his swiftly dropped shoulder, until he felt himself clutched at theknees in an iron grip, and heaved clear of the flooded floor. 

The stateroom door opposite swung unlatched. With a mighty effort, thewrestler whirled his opponent clean through it, heard his frame crashinto the berth at the back, and slammed the door to after him, only tobe apprised, by a lamentable yell in a deep contralto voice, that he hadmade an unfortunate choice of safe-deposits. 

In two leaps he was in room 129 D, whence, peering forth, he beheld hislate adversary emerge and speed down the narrow hall in full andlimping flight, pursued by Mrs. Charlton Denyse clad in inconsiderablepink, and shrieking vengeance as she splashed. Relieved, through thisunexpected alliance, of further interference, the messenger collected aweird assortment of his liege's clothing and an article or two of hisown and returned to her. There was no mistaking the gladness of herrelief. 

"You've done very well, " she approved. "Though I don't know that Iactually need this lace collar, and I suppose I _could_ brave the perilsof the deep without that turquoise necklace. "

"I took what I could get, " explained he. "It's my rule of life. "

"Did you obey my orders? Yes, I see you did. Put on your overcoat atonce. It's cold. And you're awfully wet, " she added, with charmingdismay, looking at his feet. 

"They'll dry out. There's quite a little water below. "

Little Miss Grouch studied him for a moment of half-smilingconsideration. "I want to ask you something, " she said presently. 

"Ask, O Queen, and it shall be answered you. "

"Would you have come after me just the same if--if I'd been really aMiss Grouch, and red-nosed, and puffy-faced, and a frump, and homely?"

He took the question under advisement, with a gravity suitable to itsimport. "Not just the same, " he decided, "not as--as anxiously. "

"But you'd have come?"

"Oh, yes, I'd have come. "

"I thought so. " Her voice was strange. There was a pause. "Do you knowyou're a most exasperating person? It wouldn't make any difference toyou who a woman was, if she needed help, whether she was in thesteerage--"

He leaped to his feet. "The baby!" he cried, "and his mother. I'dforgotten. "

On the word he was gone. Little Miss Grouch looked after him, and therewas a light in her eyes which no human being had ever surprisedthere--and which would have vastly surprised herself had she appreciatedthe purport of it. 

In five minutes he was back, having calmly violated one of the mostrigid of ship's rules, in bringing steerage passengers up to the firstcabin. 

"Here's the Unparalleled Urchin, " he announced, "right as a trivet. Here, let's make a little camp. " He pulled around a settee, establishedthe frightened but quiet mother and the big-eyed child on it, drew up achair for himself next to the girl and said, "Now we can waitcomfortably for whatever comes. "

News it was that came, in the course of half an hour. An official, thegenuineness of whose relief was patent, announced that the leak wasabove water-line, that it was being patched, that the ship was on herway and that there was absolutely no danger, his statement being backedup by the resumed throb of the engines and the sound of many hammers onthe port side. Stateroom holders in D and E, however, he added, wouldbest arrange to remain in the saloon until morning. 

So the Tyro conveyed his adoptive charges back to the steerage, andreturned to his other and more precious charge. There he found JudgeEnderby in attendance. 

"Isn't there something more I can get from your room?" the Tyro asked ofLittle Miss Grouch, after he had greeted the judge. 

She shook her head with a smile. 

"So the dumb has found a tongue, eh?" remarked the lawyer. 

"Emergency use only, " explained the Tyro. 

"Well, my legal advice, " pursued the jurist with a reassuring grimace atthe girl, "is that you can make hay while the moon shines, for I don'tthink any officer is going to concern himself with your little affairjust at present. But my personal advice, " he added significantly, "inthe interests of your own peace of mind, is that you go and sit on therudder the rest of the voyage. Safety first!"

"I think he's an awfully queer old man, " pouted Little Miss Grouch, asthe judge sauntered away. 

"Don't abuse my counsel, " said the Tyro. 

"He isn't your counsel. He's my counsel. I paid him five whole dollarsto be. "

"Hoots, lassie! I paid him ten. "

"You want my house, " said Little Miss Grouch, aggrieved, "and you wantmy lawyer. Is there anything else of mine you'd like to lay claim to?"

It may have been accident--the unprincipled opportunist of a godling whorules these matters will league himself with any chance--that the Tyro'seyes fell upon her hand, which lay, pink and warmly half-curled in herlap, and remained there. It certainly was not accident that the hand washastily moved. 

"Do you suppose Baby Karl and his mother are safe?" she inquired, in avoice of extreme detachment. 

"Just as safe as we are. By the way, you heard what Judge Enderbysuggested to me about 'safety first'?"

Her face took on an expression of the severest innocence. "No. Somethingstupid, I dare say. "

"He advised me to go and sit on the rudder for the rest of the voyage. "

"Wouldn't it be awfully wet--and lonely?"

"Unspeakably. Particularly the latter. "

"Then I wouldn't do it, " she counseled. 

"I won't, " he promised. "But, Miss Grouch, the dry land may be just aslonely as the wet ocean. "

"Haven't you any friends in Europe?"

"No. Unless you count Lord Guenn one. "

"You never met him until I introduced you, did you?"

"No. But he's asked me to come and visit him at Guenn Oaks. "

"Has he! Why?"

The Tyro laughed. "There's something very unflattering about yoursurprise. Not for my _beaux yeux_ alone. It seems he's sort of inheritedme from a careless ancestor. "

"_I_ came to him by marriage. "

"So he tells me. Also that you're going to Guenn Oaks. "

"Yes. "

"Well?"

"Why 'well'? I didn't say anything. "

"You didn't. I'm waiting to hear you. "

"What?"

"Tell me whether I'm to go or not. "

"What have I to do with it?"

"Everything. "

"Your servitude ends the moment we touch land. "

"It will never end, " said the Tyro in a low voice. 

Little Miss Grouch peeked up at him from under the fascinating, slantedbrows, and immediately regretted her indiscretion. What she saw in hisface stirred within her a sweet and tremulous panic, the like of whichshe had not before experienced. 

"Please don't look at me like that, " she said petulantly. "What willpeople think?"

"People are, for once, minding their own businesses, bless 'em. "

"Well, anyway, you make me n-n-nervous. "

"Am I to come to Guenn Oaks?"

"I'll tell you to-morrow, " she fenced. 

"To-morrow I shan't be speaking to you. "

"Why not?--oh, I forgot. Still, you might write, " she dimpled. 

"Would you answer?"

"I'll consider it. "

"How long would consideration require?"

"Was there ever such a human question-mark! Please, kind sir, I'mawfully tired and sleepy. Won't you let me off now?"

"Forgive me, " said the Tyro with such profound contrition that theWondrous Vision's heart smote her, for she had said, in her quest ofmeans of defense, the thing which most distinctly was not true. 

Never had she felt less sleepy. Within her was a terrifying andquivering tumult. She closed her eyes upon the outer world, which seemednow all comprised in one personality. Within the closed lids she hadshut the imprint of the tired, lean, alert, dependable face. Within thedoors of her heart, which she was now striving to close, was the memoryof his protective manliness, of his unobtrusive helpfulness, of thetonic of his frank and healthy humor--and above all of the strength andcomfort of his arms as he had caught her up out of the flood. As shemused, the slumber-god crept in behind those blue-veined shutters ofthought, and melted her memories into dreams. 

While consciousness was still feebly efficient, but control had passedfrom the surrendering mind, she stretched out a groping hand. The Tyro'sclosed over it very gently. At the corner of her delicate mouth themerest ghost of a smile flickered and passed. Little Miss Grouch wentdeep into the land of dreams, with her knight keeping watch and wardover her. 

Came then the destroying ogre, in the form of the captain, and passedon; came then the wicked fairy, in the person of Mrs. Charlton Denyse, and passed on, not without some gnashing of metaphorical teeth (her own, I regret to state, she had left in her berth); came also the god fromthe machine, in the shape of Judge Willis Enderby, with his friend Dr. Alderson, and paused near the group. 

"Love, " observed the jurist softly, "is nine tenths opportunity and therest importunity. I hope our young protégé doesn't forget that oddtenth. It's important. "

"It seems to me, " observed his companion suspiciously, "that you boastconsiderable wisdom about the tender passion. "

The ablest honest lawyer in New York sighed. "I am old who once wasyoung, but _ego in Arcadia fui_ and I have not forgotten. " Then the twoold friends passed on. 

[Illustration: HER KNIGHT KEEPING WATCH OVER HER]

VII

 Seventh day out. 

 This sea-life is too darned changeable for me. You never know what next. It's bad for the nerves--

 Smith's Log. 

Thus the Tyro, in much perturbation of spirit, at the end of a lonelyday. "_Varium et mutabile semper_, " was written, however, not of the seabut of woman. And it was of woman and woman's incomprehensibility thatthe keeper of the private log was petulantly thinking when he made thatentry. 

For, far from harrying him about the decks, Little Miss Grouch had nowwithdrawn entirely from his ken. He had written her once, he had writtenher twice; he had surreptitiously thrust a third note beneath her door. No answer came to any of his communications. Being comparativelyinnocent of the way of a maid with a man, the Tyro was discouraged. Heconsidered that he was not being fairly used. And he gloomed and mopedand was an object of private mirth to Judge Enderby. 

Two perfectly sound reasons accounted for the Joyous Vision's remainingtemporarily invisible. The first was that she needed sleep, andStateroom 129 D, which she had once so despitefully characterized, seemed a very haven of restfulness when, after breakfast, it wasreported habitably dried out; the other was a queer and exasperatingreluctance to meet the Tyro--yes, even to see him. As the lifting of theembargo on speech was not known to him, she knew herself to be insuredagainst direct address. But the mere thought of meeting him face toface, of having those clear, quiet gray eyes look into hers again, gaveher the most mysterious and disquieting sensations. 

"I do wish, " said Little Miss Grouch to herself, "that his name weren'tso perfectly _awful_. "

Some thought-demon with a special mission for the persecution ofmaidens, put it into her head to inquire why she should so vehementlywish this thing. And the trail of that thought plunged her, face-first, into her pillow. 

Thereafter she decided that if she went on deck at all that day, itwould be with such a surrounding of bodyguard as should keep wanderingDaddleskinks quite beyond her range of association. As for his notes, she would answer them when she thought fit. Meantime--as the writerthereof might have been enheartened to know--she put them away in themost private and personal compartment of her trunk, giving each a tenderlittle pat to settle it comfortably into its place. 

 * * * * *

Doubtless the sun shone that day (the official records said, "Clear withlight winds and a calm sea"); doubtless the crippled ship limped happilyenough on her way; doubtless there was good food and drink, music andmerriment, and the solace of enlivening company aboard. But thesnap-shot of the Tyro surreptitiously taken by Judge Enderby--he havingborrowed Alderson's traveling-camera for the purpose--showed a facewhich might suitably have been used as a marginal illustration for thatcheerless hymn, "This world is all a fleeting show. "

Life had lost all its flavor for the Tyro. He politely accepted Dr. Alderson's invitation to walk, but lagged with so springless a step thatthe archæologist began to be concerned for his health. At Lord Guenn'slater suggestion that squash was the thing for incipient seediness, hetried that, but played a game far too listless for the Englishman'sprowess. 

In vain did he seek consolation in the society of Karl, the Pride of theSteerage. That intelligent infant wept and would not be comfortedbecause the pretty lady had not come also, and the Tyro was well fain tojoin him in his lamentations. Only the threatening advance of DiedrickSperry, with a prominent and satisfactory decoration in dusky blueprotruding from his forehead, roused him to a temporary zest in life. Mr. Sperry came, breathing threats and future slaughter, but met adisconcertingly cold and undisturbable gleam of the gray eye. 

"If you interfere with me again, " said the Tyro, "I'll throw youoverboard. "

And it was said in such evident good faith that his opponent deemed itbest to forget that matter, vaguely suspecting that he had encountereda "professional. "

A more fearsome opponent bore down upon the depressed scion of all theSmiths, late that afternoon. Mrs. Charlton Denyse maneuvered him into acurve of the rail, and there held him with her glittering eye. 

"I beg your pardon. " This, pitched on a flat and haughty level ofvocality, was her method of opening the conversation. 

The Tyro sought refuge in the example of classic lore. "You haven'toffended me, " he said, patterning his response upon the White Queen. "Perhaps you're going to, " he added apprehensively. 

"I am going to talk to you for your own good, " was the chill retort. 

"Oh, Lord! That's worse. "

"Do you see that ship?" The Denyse hand pointed, rigid as a bar, to thesouth, where the Tyro discerned a thin smudge of smoke. 

"I see something. "

"That is the Nantasket. "

"At this distance I can't deny it, " murmured the Tyro. 

"Which left New York two days behind us, and is now overhauling us, owing to our accident. "

He received this news with a bow. 

"On board her is Henry Clay Wayne, " she continued weightily. 

"Congratulations on your remarkable keenness of vision!" exclaimed theTyro. 

"Don't be an imbecile, " said the lady, "I didn't see him. I learned bywireless. "

"Rather a specialty of yours, wireless, isn't it?" he queried. 

She shot an edged look at him, but his expression was innocence itself. "He will reach England before us. "

"Then you don't think he'll board us and make us all walk the plank?"asked the Tyro in an apparent agony of relief. 

"Don't get flip--" cried the exasperated lady--"pant, " she added barelyin time--"with me. Mr. Wayne will be in England waiting for you. "

"Anyway, he can't eat me, " the Tyro comforted himself. "Shall I hide inthe stoke-hole? Shall I disguise myself as a rat and go ashore in thecargo? What do you advise?"

"I advise you to keep away from Miss Wayne. "

"Yes. You did that before. At present I'm doing so. "

"Then continue. "

"I shall, until we reach solid earth. "

"There my responsibility will cease. Mr. Wayne will know how to protecthis daughter from upstart fortune-hunters. "

The Tyro regarded her with an unruffled brow. "Never hunted a fortune inmy life. A modest competence is the extent of my ambition, and I'veattained that, thanking you for your kind interest. "

"In the necktie and suspender business, I suppose, " she snapped, enragedat her failure to pierce the foe's armor. "It's a crying scandal thatyou should thrust yourself on your betters. "

This annoyed the Tyro. Not that he allowed Mrs. Denyse to perceive it. With a bland, reminiscent smile he remarked:--

"Speaking of scandals, I observed a young man, rather informally clad, entering Stateroom 144 D at a late hour last night, in some haste. "

"Oh!" gasped Mrs. Denyse, and there was murder in her tones. 

"He looked to me like young Sperry. "

Mrs. Denyse glowed ocular fire. 

"And, according to the list, Stateroom 144 D is occupied by Mrs. Charlton Denyse. "

Mrs. Denyse growled an ominous, subterranean growl. 

"Now, my dear madam, in view of this fact, which I perceive you do notdeny" (here the lady gave evidence of having a frenzied protest stuck inher throat like a bone), "I would suggest that you cease chaperoning meand attend to the proprieties in your own case. Hi, Dr. Alderson!" hecalled to that unsuspecting savant who was passing, "will you look afterMrs. Denyse for a bit? I fear she's ill. " And he made his escape. 

What Mrs. Denyse said to Dr. Alderson when she regained the power ofcoherent speech, is beside the purposes of this chronicle. Suffice it tostate that he left in some alarm, believing the unfortunate woman tohave lost her mind. 

The Tyro sought out his deck-chair and relapsed into immitigableboredom. He was not the only person aboard to be dissatisfied with theway affairs were developing. As an amateur Cupid, Judge Enderby had beenfancying himself quite decidedly. Noting, however, that there had beenabsolutely no communication between his two young clients that day, hebegan to distrust his diplomacy, and he set about the old, familiarproblem of administering impetus to inertia. Sad though I am to say itof so eminent a member of the bar, his method perilously approachedbetrayal of a client's confidence. 

It was after his evening set-to at bridge, when, coming on deck for agood-night sniff of air, he encountered the Tyro who was lugubriouslycontemplating the moon. 

"Hah!" he greeted. "How's the dumb palsy?"

"Worse, " was the morose reply. 

"Haven't seen your pretty little acquaintance about to-day. Have you?"

"No. "

"Don't swear at me, young man, " reproved the lawyer, mildly. 

"I didn't swear at you, sir, " said the startled Tyro. 

"Not in words, but in tone. Not that I blame you for being put out. Atyour age, to miss the sun from out of the heavens--and Miss Wayne iscertainly a fascinating and dangerous young person. Considering that sheis barely twenty-one, it is quite remarkable. "

"Remarkable?" repeated the Tyro vaguely. 

"Considering that she is barely twenty-one, I said. "

The Tyro rubbed his head. Was loneliness befuddling his brain? "I'mafraid I'm stupid, " he apologized. 

"I'm afraid your fears are well based. "

"But--_what's_ remarkable?"

"It's remarkable that you should be deaf as well as dumb, " retorted theother, testily. "To resume: considering that she is barelytwenty-one--not nearly, but _barely_ twenty-one, you'll note--"

"You needn't go any further, " cried the youth, suddenly enlightened. "Twenty-one is legal age on the high seas?"

"It is. "

"Then she's her own mistress and the captain has no more authority overher than over me?"

"So much, I have reason to believe, an eminent legal authority pointedout to the captain yesterday. "

"Why didn't that same eminent authority point it out to me before?"

"Before? I object to the implication. I haven't pointed it out to younow. Your own natural, if somewhat sluggish intelligence inferred itfrom a random remark about a friend's age. "

"Does she know it?"

"She does. "

"Since when?"

"Since some forty-eight hours. "

"Then, why on earth didn't she tell me? She knew I didn't dare speak toher. But she never said a word. "

"Give me, " began the judge, "five" (here the Tyro reached for hispocket, but the other repudiated the gesture with a wave of the hand)"million dollars, and I wouldn't undertake to guess why any femalebetween the ages of one and one hundred years, does or does not do anygiven thing. I'm no soothsayer. "

"Then I may speak to her to-morrow, without fear of making trouble?"

"You may certainly speak to her--if you can find her. As for trouble, Iwouldn't care to answer for you, " chuckled the judge. "Good-night toyou. "

The Tyro sat up late, asking questions of the moon, who, being also offeminine gender, obstinately declined to betray the secrets of the sex. 

VIII

 Eighth day out. 

 Glorious sunshine, a tingling wind, and the ship just "inchin' along like a poor inch-worm. "

 Everything's wrong with the ship;-- Everything's right with the world. 

 Perfectly satisfied with the Macgregor hospitality. She may take all the time she wants, so far as I'm concerned--

 SMITH'S LOG. 

Out of the blue void of a fleckless sky, came whooping at dawn aboisterous wind. All the little waves jumped from their slow-swingingcradles to play with it, and, as they played, became big waves, with allthe sportiveness of children and all the power of giants. The ClanMacgregor was their toy. 

At first she pretended indifference, and strove to keep the even tenorof her way, regardless of them. But they were too much and too many forher. She began to cripple and jig most painfully for one of her size anddignity. She limped, she wobbled, she squattered, she splashed andsploshed, she reeled hither and thither like an intoxicated old rounderbuffeted by a crowd of practical jokers, and she lost time hand overfist, to the vast approval of Mr. Alexander Forsyth Smith. Time was nowjust so much capital to his hopes. 

The tonic seduction of the gale was too much for Little Miss Grouch. This was no day for a proven sailor to be keeping between decks. Moreover, the maiden panic was now somewhat allayed. The girl'semotions, after the first shock of the surprise and the resentment ofthe hitherto untouched spirit, had come under control. She could nowface a Daddleskink or a regiment of Daddleskinks, unmoved, so shefelt--with proper support. Hence, like the Tyro, she was on deck early. 

So they met. As in the mild and innocent poem of Victorian days, "'twasin a crowd. " Little Miss Grouch had provided the crowd, and the Tyrosimply added one to it. He was fain if not wholly content to stay in thebackground and bide his chance. 

Now Little Miss Grouch, ignorant of the fact that her high-pricedcounsel had betrayed her cause, marveled and was disturbed when the Tyroapproached, greeted her, and straightway dropped into the fringe ofSociety as constituted by herself for the occasion. Was he deliberately, in the face of his own belief that imprisonment would be the penalty ofany communication between her and himself, willing to risk her liberty?If so, he was not the man she had taken him for. Little Miss Grouch'sideal was rocking a bit on his pedestal. 

Patience was not one of the young lady's virtues. On the other hand, thecompensating quality of directness was. "Do It Now" was her prevailingmotto. She wanted to know what her slave meant by his abrupt change ofattitude, and she wanted to know at once. But her methods, thoughprompt, were not wholly lacking in finesse. Out of her surrounding courtshe appointed Judge Enderby and Lord Guenn escorts for the morningpromenade, and picked up Dr. Alderson on the way. 

Be it duly set down to the credit of the Joyous Vision's soliderqualities, that old men found her as interesting a companion, though ina different way, as did young men. By skillful management, she led theconversation to the house on the Battery, with the anticipated resultthat Judge Enderby (all innocent, wily old fox though he was, that hewas playing her game) suggested the inclusion of the other claimant inthe conference. The Tyro was summoned and came. 

"The charge against you, " explained the judge, "is contumaciousness inthat you still insist on coveting a property which is claimed byroyalty, under the divine right of queens. "

"I'd be glad to surrender it, " said the Tyro meekly, "but there seems tobe a species of family obligation about it. "

"Obligation or no obligation, you know you can't have it, " declared thelady. 

"I rather expect to, though. "

"When papa says he'll get a thing, he always gets it, " she informed himwith lofty confidence, "and he has promised me that house. "

"Then I'm afraid that this is the time his promise goes unfulfilled, "said Judge Enderby. 

She turned to him with incredulously raised brows. 

"Alderson knows the old records; he's seen the option--it's a queer olddocument, by the way, but sound legally--and can swear to it. "

"The only loose joint is the exact plan of the original property, "observed the archæologist. 

"And that is in the picture at Guenn Oaks, " contributed Lord Guenn. 

"Why are you all against me?" cried Little Miss Grouch in grievedamazement. 

"Not against you at all, " said Judge Enderby. "It's simply a matter ofthe best claim. Besides, you, who have everything in the world, wouldyou turn this poor homeless young wanderer out of a house that he'snever been in?"

"Except by ancestral proxy, " qualified Dr. Alderson. 

"How _mean_ of you!" She turned the fire of denunciatory eyes upon thearchæologist. "You told me with your own lips that no family namedDaddleskink was ever connected in the remotest degree with the house. You said the idea was as absurd as the name. "

"So it is. "

"Yet you turn around and declare that Mr. Daddleskink's claim is good. "

"_Whose_ claim?"

"Mr. Daddleskink's. " She indicated the Tyro with a scornful gesture. "Oh, " she added, noting the other's obvious bewilderment, "I see youdidn't know his real name. "

"I? I've known him and his name all his life. "

"And it isn't Daddleskink?"

The learned archæologist lapsed against the rail and gave way to wildmirth. "Wh--where on earth d-d-did you gu-gu-get such a notion?" hequavered, when he could speak. 

"He told me, himself. "

"I? Never!" The Tyro's face was as that of a babe for innocence. 

"_You--didn't--tell--me--your--name--was--Daddleskink?_"

"Certainly not. I simply asked if you didn't think it a misfortune to benamed Daddleskink, and you jumped to the conclusion that it was my nameand my misfortune. "

"Perhaps you didn't tell me, either, that your friends called you'Smith, '" she said ominously. 

"So they do. "

"Why should they call you 'Smith' if your name isn't Daddleskink?" shedemanded, with an effect of unanswerable logic. 

"Because my name _is_ Smith. "

"Permit me to present, " said Lord Guenn, who had been quietly butjoyously appreciative of the duel, "my ancestral friend, Mr. AlexanderForsyth Smith. "

"Why didn't you tell me your real name?" Little Miss Grouch's offendedregard was fixed upon the Tyro. 

"Well, you remember, you made fun of the honorable cognomen of Smithwhen we first met. "

"That is no excuse. "

"And you were mysterious as an owl about your own identity. "

"I could see no occasion for revealing it. " The delicately modeled nosewas now quite far in the air. 

"So I thought I'd furnish a really interesting name for you to amuseyourself with. I'm sorry you don't care for it. "

Little Miss Grouch's limpid and lofty consideration passed from theanxious physiognomy of the speaker to the mirthful countenances of theother three. 

"I'm not sure that I shall ever speak to any of you again, " she stated, and, turning her back, marched away from them with lively resentmentexpressed in every supple line of her figure. 

"Young man, " said Judge Enderby to his client, as the male quartette, thus cavalierly dismissed, passed on, "will you take the advice of anold man?"

"Have I paid for it?" inquired the Tyro. 

"You have not. Gratis advice, this. The most valuable kind. "

"Shoot, sir. "

"Don't let two blades of grass grow under your feet where one grewbefore. "

"But--"

"--me no buts. Half an hour I give you. If you haven't found the younglady in that time I discard you. "

Opportunity for successful concealment on shipboard is all butlimitless. Hence the impartial recorder must infer that the efforts ofLittle Miss Grouch to elude pursuit were in no way excessive. A quarterof an hour sufficed for the searcher to locate his object in a sunnynook on the boat-deck. He approached and stood at attention. For severalmoments she ignored his presence. In point of fact she pretended not tosee him. He shifted his position. She turned her head in the reversedirection and pensively studied the sea. 

The Tyro sighed. 

Little Miss Grouch frowned. 

The Tyro coughed gently. 

Little Miss Grouch scowled. 

The Tyro lapsed to the deck and curled his legs under him. 

Little Miss Grouch turned upon him a baleful eye. But her glancewavered: at least, it twinkled. Her little jaw was set, it is true. Atthe corner of her mouth, however, dimpled a suspicious and deliciousquiver. Perhaps the faintest hint of it crept into her voice to mollifythe rigor of the tone in which she announced:

"I came here to be alone. "

"We are, " said the Tyro. "At last!" he added with placid satisfaction. 

"Well, really!" For the moment it was all that came to her, as offset tothis superb impudence. "Go away, at once, " she commanded presently. 

"I can't. "

"Why not?"

"I'm lame, " he said plaintively. "Pity the poor cripple. "

"A little while ago you were deaf; then dumb. And now--By the way, " shecried, struck with a sudden reminiscence, "what has become of yourdumbness?"

"Cured. "

"A miracle. Listen then. And stop looking at that crack in the deck asif you'd lost your last remaining idea down it. "

"To look up is dangerous. "

"Where's the danger?"

"Dangerous to my principles, " he explained. "You see, you are somewhatless painful to the accustomed eye than usual to-day, and if I should sofar forget my principles as to mention that fact--"

"You haven't a principle to your name! You're untruthful--"

[Illustration: THE TYRO CURLED HIS LEGS UNDER HIM]

"Ah, come, Little Miss Grouch!"

"Deceitful--"

"As to that Smith matter--"

"And most selfishly inconsiderate of me. "

"Of you!" cried the Tyro, roused to protest. 

"Certainly. Or you wouldn't be exposing me to imprisonment in my cabinby talking to me. "

"Nothing doing, " said he comfortably. "That little joke is played out. "

"How did you know?"

Loyalty forbade the Tyro to betray his ally. "That you were of age, youmean, and couldn't be treated like a child?" he fenced. 

"Yes. "

"Well, when you spoke of the house on the Battery being deeded over toyou, I knew that you must have reached your majority! The rest wassimple to figure out. "

"Oh, dear!" she mourned. "It was such fun chasing you around the ship!"

"Yes? Well, I've emulated the startled fawn all I'm going to this trip. "

"What's your present rôle?"

"Meditation upon the wonder of existence. "

"Do you find it good?"

"Existence? That depends. Am I to come to Guenn Oaks?"

"I'm sure you'd be awfully in the way there, " she said petulantly. "You've been a perfect nuisance for the last two days. "

"My picturesqueness has gone glimmering, now that I'm only a Smithinstead of a Daddleskink. Why, oh, why must these lovely illusions everperish!"

"_You_ killed cock-robin, " she accused. 

"Not at all. It was Dr. Alderson with his misplaced application of thetruth. "

"Anyway, I don't find you nearly so entertaining, now that you're plainMr. Smith. "

"Nor I you as Miss Cecily Wayne, equally plain if not plainer. "

"In that case, " she suggested with a mock-mournful glance from beneaththe slanted brows, "this acquaintance might as well die a painlessdeath. "

"But for one little matter that you've forgotten. "

"And that?"

"The Magnificent Manling of the Steerage. "

"So I had forgotten! Let's go make our call on him. We must not neglecthim a moment longer. "

The Tyro leaped to his feet and they ran, hand in hand like twochildren, down to their point of observation of the less favoredpassengers. They spent a lively half-hour with the small Teuton, at theend of which Little Miss Grouch issued imperative commands to the Tyroto the effect that he was to wait at the pier when they got in, and seeto it that mother and child were safely forwarded to the transfer. 

"Yessum, " said the Tyro meekly. "Anything further?"

"I'll let you know, " she returned, royally. "You may wire me when thecommission is executed. Perhaps, if you carry it through very nicely, I'll let you come to Guenn Oaks. "

"Salaam, O Empress, " returned the Tyro, executing a most elaborateOriental bow, the concluding spiral of which almost involved him in Mrs. Charlton Denyse's suddenly impending periphery. 

Mrs. Denyse retired three haughty paces. 

"I wish to speak to Miss Wayne, " she announced with a manner whichimplied that she did not wish and never again would wish to speak toMiss Wayne's companion. 

"With me?" asked Little Miss Grouch, bland surprise in her voice. 

"Yes. I have a message. "

Little Miss Grouch waited. 

"A private message, " continued the lady. 

"Is it very private? You know Mr. Daddleskink-Smith, I believe?"

"I've seen Mr. Daddleskink-Smith, " frigidly replied the lady, mistakingthe introducer's hesitation for a hyphen, "if that is what he callshimself now. "

"It isn't, " said the Tyro. "You know, Mrs. Denyse, I've always held thatthe permutation of names according to the taste of the inheritor, is oneof the most interesting phases of social ingenuity. "

Mrs. Charlton Denyse, relict of the late Charley Dennis, turned a deepTyrian purple. "If you would be good enough--" she began, when the girlbroke in:--

"Is your message immediate, Mrs. Denyse?"

"It is from my cousin, Mr. Van Dam. "

"To me?" cried the girl. 

"No. To me. By wireless. But it concerns you. "

"In that case I don't think I'm interested, " said the girl, her colorrising. "You must excuse me. " And she walked on. 

"Then the gentlemanly spider on the hot griddle loses, " murmured theTyro. 

"I don't know whom you mean, " said the girl, obstinately. 

"I mean that your foot-destroying 'Never-never-never' holds good. "

"Yes, " she replied. "I did think I _might_ marry him once. But now, " sheadded pensively and unguardedly, "I know I never could. "

The Tyro's heart came into his throat--except that portion of it whichlooked out of his eyes. 

"Why?"

A flame rose in Little Miss Grouch's cheeks, and subsided, leaving hershaking. 

"Why?" He had halted her beside the rail, and was trying to look intoher face, which was averted toward the sea, and quivering with panic ofthe peril suddenly become imminent again. 

Lord Guenn, approaching along the deck, furnished Little Miss Grouch aninspiration, the final flash of hope of the hard-pressed. 

"Shut your eyes, " she bade her terrifying slave. 

"What for?"

"Obey!"

"They're shut. "

"Tight?"

"Under sealed orders. "

Little Miss Grouch made a swift signal to the approaching Englishman, and executed a silent maneuver. 

"Count three, " she directed breathlessly, "before you ask again or openyour eyes. "

"One--two--three, " said the Tyro slowly. "_Why?_"

"Hanged if I know, my dear fellow, " replied Lord Guenn, upon whose trimelegance the Tyro's discomfited vision rested. 

Little Miss Grouch had vanished. 

IX

 Ninth day out. 

 Sixty days has September, April, June and November. From January until May The rain it raineth every day. All the rest have thirty-one Without a single gleam of sun. If any should have thirty-two, They'd be dull and dirty, too!

 ADAPTED BY SMITH FOR SMITH'S LOG

Rain, fog, mist, drizzle, more rain. Such was the waste world throughwhich the Clan Macgregor wallowed. Other ships passed her, hooting asthey went. Small craft began to loom up under her massive bows, andslide away from beneath her towering stern, always eluding Fate, as itseemed, by miraculous inches. And slower and ever slower moved thesea-mammoth, lugubriously trumpeting her distress and dismay at theplight in which she found herself. 

Thus and no otherwise would the Tyro have vented his grief and chagrin, had he possessed competent vocal organs, more lost and befogged than theship which bore him and his sorrow to an alien land. For breakfast hadcome and gone, and then luncheon and dinner, and nowhere had he caughtso much as a glimpse of Little Miss Grouch. At ten o'clock that night hewas standing immersed in gloom, within and without, staring out over therail into a world of blackness. Far out in the void, a bell tolled. TheTyro resumed his purposeless promenade, meditating cheerlessly uponburied hopes. 

Now, were individuals required, as are craft, to carry fog signals, thismaritime record might be something other than it is. The collision washead on, and the impact severe. The lighter craft recoiled against therail. 

"Oh!" she said. 

"You!" cried the Tyro, with the voice of glad tidings. 

"How you frightened me!" she said, but the tone indicated more ofrelief, not to say content, than alarm. 

"I'm sorry. Where have you been all day?"

"Packing. "

"Oh!" There was a pause. Then: "Lord Guenn doesn't know. "

"Doesn't know what?"

"Doesn't know why. I asked him, you know. When you--er--disappeared. SoI have to ask you again. Why?"

"Aren't you afraid that when you die you'll change into aquestion-mark?"

"Not at all. I intend to be answered before I die. Long before. One--two--three; why?"

But she was ready for the question now. "About Mr. Van Dam, you mean?"said she with elaborate carelessness. "Oh, well, you see, I'd be Mrs. Denyse's cousin in that case and, after a week of her, I've concludedthat it isn't worth the price. "

"Hard-hearted Parent will be displeased. "

"I'm afraid so. Perhaps he'll cut me off with a shilling. "

"I hope so. "

"Now, that isn't a bit kind of you, " she complained. "I'm not fitted forpoverty. Not that it would be literally a shilling. But to have to doeverything on twelve thousand a year--"

"How much?"

"That's all I can call my really own. "

"And you consider that insufficient?" asked the Tyro, in a queer, strained voice. 

"Not as long as papa pays my principal bills, " she explained. "But ofcourse, to live on--" An expressive shrug furnished the conclusion. 

"For some years I lived on less than a tenth of it, " said he. 

"No! It couldn't be done. "

"Don't you know anything at all about life?" he demanded, almostangrily. 

"Of course I do. But I don't bother about money and such things. "

"I do. I've had to all my life. Even now, when I consider myself verywell off, I can make only a little more than the income which youconsider mere pin-money. "

"Yet you can buy houses on the Battery, " she insinuated. 

"Only through the option that gives me the inside track. And even thatwill make a huge hole in my pile. "

"Ah, well, " she said petulantly. "I don't see what difference it makes. Anyway, I'm bored. Aren't you going to be any more amusing than this atGuenn Oaks?"

"I'm not coming to Guenn Oaks. "

"Who are you to say what you are or are not going to do--Slave?" shesaid with her most imperious air. 

At the tone, he rallied a difficult smile. "I'm the Honest Workingman. Whereas you are--" he spread his hands out in a suave gesture, which wasexceedingly displeasing to Little Miss Grouch--"a mirage. "

"A mirage?" she repeated. 

"The Eternally Unattainable. "

"Long words always make my head ache. "

"I'll state it mathematically. If you concentrate your powerfulintellect upon the problem you will perceive that two plus two equalsfour. "

"In that faith I live and die! But what it has to do with Bertie Guenn'sinvitation--"

"The sum proves up equally when raised to thousands, or millions. "

"What concern has a Perfect Pig with figures?" she asked wistfully, andlifted a hesitant hand in the darkness. 

It fell lightly on his arm. In the soft gloom her face glimmered, dimlywarm to his vision, upturned to his. The fog covered much that mightotherwise have been seen, but failed to smother what might have been(and in fact was, as Judge Enderby and Dr. Alderson, turning the angleof the deck, halted and tactfully melted away) heard. To wit:--

"Oh!" in a feminine and tremulous pitch. 

"Forgive me, " said the Tyro hoarsely. "That was for good-bye. "

Was it a detaining hand that went forth in the darkness? If so, itfailed of its purpose, for the Tyro had gone. 

Then and there Little Miss Grouch proceeded to pervert a proverb. 

"Man proposes, " she observed to herself, philosophically. "Maybe notalways, though. But, anyway, woman disposes. _I_ don't think that was_really_ good-bye. "

Behold now a complete reversal of conditions from the initial night ofthe voyage. For now it was the Tyro who went to bed, miserable and atodds with a hostile world; whereas Little Miss Grouch dreamed of amorrow, new, glorious, and irradiated with a more splendidadventurousness than her slave had ever previsioned. 

LAND HO!

 Land Ho!

 A fool for luck went a-fishing in the Atlantic with his heart for bait--and caught the Goddess of the Realm of Dreams. 

 I have sailed out of the Port of Chance, across the Ocean of Golden hopes, straight into the Haven of All-Joy--

 And so, Journey's End in the good old way--

 SMITH'S LOG. 

Blue-gray out of pearl-gray mist rose the shores of old England. Longbefore the sun, the Tyro was up and on deck, looking with all his eyes, a little awed, a little thrilled, as every man of the true Americanblood who honors his country must be at first sight of the Motherland. Slowly, through an increasing glow that lighted land and water alike, the leviathan of the deep made her ponderous progress to thehill-encircled harbor. A step that halted at the Tyro's elbow detachedhis attention. 

"What do you think of it?" asked Lord Guenn. 

The eyes of Alexander Forsyth Smith rested for a moment on a toylighthouse and passed to the trim shore, where a plaything locomotivewas pulling a train of midget box-cars with the minimum of noise andeffort. 

"It's like Fairyland, " he said, in a voice unconsciously modulated tothe peace of the scene. "So tiny and neatly beautiful. "

"Yes; it hasn't the overwhelming magnificence of New York Harbor. Butit's England. "

"And you're gladder to get back to it than you'd confess, for shame ofsentimentalizing, " said the other shrewdly, having marked the note ofdeep content in that "it's England. "

"One doesn't climb the rail and sing 'Rule, Britannia. '"

"It's a matter of temperament and training. Inside, I suppose, everydecent man feels the same about his own country, allowing for racialdifferences. I don't suppose, though, you'd have quite the samesensation if you were an American returning home after a long absence. "

"Good Lord, no!" was the unguarded reply. 

The Tyro laughed outright. "For once I've pierced the disguise of yourextremely courteous cosmopolitanism, and behold! there's John Bullunderneath, rampantly sure that nobody can be a really justified patriotexcept an Englishman. "

"Confound you and your traps!" retorted the young peer, ruefully. "Ah, Isay, Cecily!" he cried as Little Miss Grouch appeared, looking, in herlong soft traveling-coat, rather lovelier (so the Tyro considered withinhimself) than any human being has any right to look. 

She came over to the rail, giving the Tyro the briefest flutter of aglance to accompany her "Good-morning, Mr. Smith. "

"I appeal to you, " continued Lord Guenn. "You're a cosmopolitan--"

"Indeed, I'm not! I'm an American, " said the young lady with vigor. 

"Heaven preserve us! You Yankees are all alike. You may be as mild anddeprecatory as you please at home; one sniff of foreign air, and upgoes the Stars and Stripes. Very well, I withdraw the appeal. To changethe subject, when are you coming to us? Laura will be on the tender andshe'll want to know. "

"Dad will also be on the tender, " observed Little Miss Grouch, "andhe'll want to know, oh, heaps of things!"

"True enough! We'll keep out of the way of your affecting reunion. LadyGuenn's got a stateroom, Smith, in case it might rain. Come around andmeet her. Unless I'm mistaken, the tender's putting out now. "

"Oh!" cried Little Miss Grouch. "That adorable kiddie! I nearly forgothim. Don't forget, please, " she added to the Tyro, "you promised to lookafter them and see that they got on the right train. "

"Steerage passengers come in later, " said Lord Guenn. "Hullo! There'syour pater, on the upper deck of the tender. Doesn't look particularlystern and unforgiving, does he? Perhaps you'll get off with your life, after all. "

Little Miss Grouch turned rather white, and shot an appealing look atthe Tyro, correctly interpreting which, he wandered away. 

When he next saw her, she was in the arms of a square-faced grizzledman, and manifestly quite content to be there. The tender was swayingalongside in a strong tide-rip and the Tyro himself was making thepassage between the two craft carefully but jerkily, in the wake ofAlderson and Enderby. Once on the small boat he separated himself fromhis companions, found a secluded spot at the rail, well aft, andtactfully turned his back upon the Grouch group. 

Evolutionists assert that we all possess some characteristic, howevervague, of all the forms into which the life-stock has differentiated. Upon this theory the Tyro must have had in his make-up adisproportionate share of the common house-fly, which, we are taught, rejoices in eyes all around its head. For, though he sedulously avertedhis face from the pair in whom his interest centered, he was perfectlyaware of what they were doing. 

First Little Miss Grouch glanced at him and said something. Then herfather glared at him and said something. Then she turned toward himagain and made another remark. Then the disgruntled parent gloweredmore fiercely and said a worse thing than he had said before. Then bothof them regarded him until his ears flushed and swelled to theirfarthest tips. 

All of which was a triumph of the visual imagination. As a matter offact they weren't talking about him at all. Little Miss Grouch wasafraid to. And her stern parent didn't even know who he was. The subjectof their conversation was, largely, the Battery Place house. 

Still continuing to imagine a vain thing, the Tyro felt the gentlestlittle pressure on his arm. 

"Such a deep-brown, brown study!" said Little Miss Grouch's gay littlevoice, at his elbow. 

The Tyro turned with a sigh, quickly succeeded by a smile. It was veryhard not to smile, just for pure joy of the eye, when Little Miss Grouchwas in the foreground. 

"Why the musing melancholy?" she pursued. 

"I'm coming out of Fairyland into the Realm of Realities, " heexplained. "And I don't believe in realities any more. "

"I'm a reality, " she averred. 

"No. " He shook his head. "You're a figment. I made you up, myself, in aburst of creative genius. "

"Just like that? Right out of your head?"

"Out of my heart, " he corrected. 

"Then why not have moulded me nearer to the heart's desire?" she queriedcunningly. "Do you still think I'm homely?"

He shut his eyes firmly. "I do. "

"And cross?"

"A regular virago. "

"And ugly, and messy and an idiot--"

"Hold on! You're double-crossing the indictment. I'm the offendedidiot, " declared the Tyro, opening his eyes upon her. 

She took advantage of his indiscretion. 

"_Am_ I red-nosed?"

"You are. At least, you will be when you cry again. "

"I'll cry straight off this minute, if you don't promise to take it allback. "

"I'll promise--the instant we touch shore. "

There was a gravity in his tone that banished her mischief. 

"Perhaps I don't really want you to take it back, " she said wistfully. 

"Ah, but with firm earth under our feet once more, and realities allaround us--"

"There's Guenn Oaks. That's on the very borders of Elfland. Don't youthink Bertie looks like a Pixie?"

"I'm not going to Guenn Oaks. "

"Not if I say my very prettiest 'please'?"

From those pleading lips and eyes the Tyro turned away. Instantly therewas a piercing squeak of greeting from across the narrow strip of water. 

"It's the Beatific Baby!" cried Little Miss Grouch. "How did he ever getthere? Oh! Oh!! Get him, some one!"

Near an opening at the rail of the ship some of the third-class luggagehad been left. Upon this the Pride of the Steerage had clambered and wasthere perilously balancing, while he waved his hands at his departingfriends. There was a deeper-toned answering cry to Little Miss Grouch'sappeal, as the mother, leaping to the rail, ran swiftly along it, seized and hurled her child back, and, with the effort, plungedoverboard herself. 

By the time she had touched the water, the Tyro's overcoat and coat wereon the deck and his hands on the rail. 

"Take that life-preserver, " he said, with swift quietness to Little MissGrouch. "As soon as you see me get her, throw it as far beyond us as youcan. You understand? Beyond. There she is. _Damn!!_"

For Little Miss Grouch's arms had closed desperately around hisshoulders. With his wrestler's knowledge, he could have broken that holdin a second's fraction, but that would have been to fling her againstthe rail, possibly over it. He twisted until his face almost touchedhers. 

"Let me go!"

In all her pampered life Miss Cecily Wayne had never before beenaddressed in that tone or anything remotely resembling it, by man, woman, or child. Her grip relaxed. She shrank back, appalled. 

For perhaps a second she had checked him, and in that second the huddleof blue had drifted almost abreast. It was an easy leap from where theTyro stood. One foot was on the rail, when he staggered aside from animpact very different from the feminine assault. Mr. Henry Clay Waynehad turned from an absorbing conversation with Mrs. Denyse in time tosee his daughter in hand-to-hand combat with a man. Observing the mannow about to precipitate himself into the sea, he formulated the theoryof an attempted robbery and escape, and acted with the promptitude whichhad made him famous in Wall Street. As he was a decidedly husky onehundred-and-seventy-pounds' worth, his arrival notably interfered withthe Tyro's projects. 

Now the Tyro's naturally equable temper had been disturbed by the otherencounter, and this one loosed its bonds. Here was no softeningconsideration of sex. Who the interferer was, the Tyro knew not, norcared. He drove an elbow straight into the midsection of the enemy, lashed out with a heel which landed square on the most sensitive portionof the shin, broke the relaxed hold with one effort, and charged like abull through the crowd now lining the rail at the stern curve, --andstopped dead, as a general shout, part cheers, part laughter, arose. Thewoman was ploughing through the water with great overhand strokes. In afew seconds she stood on the tender's deck, while the crowdcongratulated and questioned. 

"I'm a feesh, " she explained, pointing to a crudely embroidered dolphinon her sleeve, which, as Dr. Alderson explained, meant that she hadundergone the famous swimming test in her own German town of Dessau onthe Mulde. 

Meantime two dukes, a ship's pilot, a negro pugilist, a goddess of grandopera, a noted aviator, and some scores of lesser people looked on inamazement at the third richest man in America hopping on one foot likean inebriated and agonized crane, with his other shin clasped in hishands, and making faces which an amateur photographer hastened to snap, subsequently suppressing them for reasons of humanity and art. 

Several people, including Mrs. Charlton Denyse with two red spots on hercheeks besides what she had put there herself, endeavored to explain tothe Tyro just what species of high treason he had committed by hisassault, but he was in no mood for gratuitous information, and removedhimself determinedly from their vicinity. Presently Judge Enderbyappeared upon his horizon. 

"His leg isn't broken, " he announced. 

"Whose leg?"

"That of the gentleman you so brutally assaulted. He wants to see you. "

"Tell him to go to the devil. "

"Oh, I wouldn't do that, " soothed the legal veteran, his face twinkling. 

"All right. Bring him here and I'll tell him. "

"Even though he is Little Miss Grouch's father?"

"What!"

"Precisely. Now, will you go to him?"

"No. "

"When you employ one of the highest-priced counsel in America, " observedthe old man plaintively, "while it isn't essential that you shouldreceive his advice with any degree of courtesy--"

"I really beg your pardon, Judge Enderby. The fact is, my temper hasbeen a little ruffled--"

"Calm it down until you need it again and come with me. " The judgetucked an arm under the Tyro's, who presently found himself beingstudied by a handsomely grim face, somewhat humanized by an occasionaltwinge of pain. The owner of the face acknowledged Judge Enderby'sintroduction and waited. The Tyro likewise acknowledged Judge Enderby'sintroduction and waited. Mr. Wayne was waiting for the Tyro toapologize. The Tyro hadn't the faintest notion of apologizing, and, hadhe known that it was expected, would have been more exasperated thanbefore, since he considered himself the aggrieved party. Finding silenceunproductive, the magnate presently broke it. 

"You were going in after that woman?"

"Yes. "

"Did you know her?"

"Yes. "

"Where?"

"On shipboard. "

"Oh! She was the one you and my daughter used to pamper, in thesteerage. Mrs. Denyse told me. So you thought you'd be a Young Hero, eh?"

The Tyro caught Judge Enderby's eye, and, reading therein an admonition, preserved his temper and his silence. 

"Well, I rather spoiled your little game. And you pretty near ruined mydigestion with your infernal elbow. "

The Tyro smiled an amiable smile. 

"Did you know who I was when you kicked me?"

"No, " answered the Tyro in such a tone that the elder man grinned. 

"Nor care either, eh?"

"No. I'd have punched you in the eye if I'd had time. "

"Don't apologize. You did your best. Now that you do know who I am--"

"I don't. Except that you're the father of Little Miss Grouch. "

"Of who--um!" demanded the other, rescuing his grammar from his surprisebarely in time to save its fair repute. 

The Tyro had the grace to blush. "It's just a foolish nickname, " hesaid. 

"Particularly inappropriate, I should say. By the way, your own nameseems to be a matter of some doubt. What do you call yourself?"

"Smith. "

"By what right?"

"Birthright. If it comes to rights, where is your license to practicecross-examination?"

"Mrs. Charlton Denyse says that your real name is Daddleskink. "

"Well, it won't seriously handicap her popularity with me to have herthink so. "

"Mrs. Charlton Denyse says that your attentions to my daughter have beenso marked as to compromise her. "

"Mrs. Charlton Denyse is a--well, she's a woman. "

"Otherwise you'd punch _her_ in the eye?"

"I'd scratch all the new paint off her, " said the Tyro virulently. 

"My clerk had an awful time with that name of yours. He thought it wascode. What's your occupation, Mr. Smith?"

"Answering questions. Have you got many more to ask?"

"I have. Are you a haberdasher?"

"Don't answer, " advised Judge Enderby, in his profoundest tones, "if ittends to incriminate or degrade you. "

"Hullo!" cried Mr. Wayne. "Where do you come in?"

"I am Mr. Smith's counsel. "

"The devil you are!"

"Therefore my presence is strictly professional. "

Now, Mr. Henry Clay Wayne was a tolerably shrewd judge of humankind. Tobe sure, the Tyro was of a species new to him. Hence he had gonecautiously, testing him for temper and poise. At this point hedetermined upon what he would have described as "rough-neck work. "

"How much will he take, Enderby?"

"For what?"

"To quit. "

With admirable agility for one of his age, Judge Enderby jumped in frontof the Tyro. He had seen, underneath the rebellious side-curl whichcame down across the youth's temple, a small vein swell suddenly andpurply. 

"Wayne, " said he over his shoulder, "you'd better apologize. "

"What for?"

"To save your life. I think my client is about to drop you over therail, and I can't conscientiously advise him not to. "

"No, I'm not, " said the Tyro, with an effort. "But I want to hear thatagain. "

"What?" inquired Mr. Wayne. 

"That--that offer of a bribe. "

"No bribe at all. A straightforward business proposition. "

"So that's your notion of business, " said the Tyro slowly. 

"Well, why not?" Bland innocence overspread the magnate's features as ifin a layer. "I ask you to name your price for quitting your pretendedclaim--"

"I don't pretend any claim!"

"--to a house, which--"

"A house?"

"Certainly. On Battery Place. "

"That isn't what you meant, " bluntly accused the lawyer. 

"Of course it isn't. " There was an abrupt and complete change of voiceand expression. "My boy, I suppose you think you're in love with mydaughter. "

The Tyro found this man suddenly a very likable person. 

"Think!" he exclaimed. 

"Well, if you think so hard enough, you are. And I suppose you want tomarry her?"

"I'd give the heart out of my body for her. "

"Do you know anything about the kind of girl she is? The life she leads?The things and people that make life for her? The sort of world shelives in?"

"Not very much. "

"I suppose not. Well, son, I make up my mind quickly about people. Youstrike me as something of a man. But I'm afraid you haven't got thebacking to carry out this contract. "

"We are prepared to show a reasonable income, " declared Judge Enderby, "with a juster prospect of permanence than--well, for example, than WallStreet affords, at present. "

"Possibly. Of course I could find our young friend here an ornamentaland useless position in my office--"

"No, thank you, " said the Tyro. 

"No. I'd supposed not. Well, Mr. Smith, to keep that amiable young ladyrunning at the rate of speed which she considers legal, trims fiftythousand a year down so fine that I could put the remainder in the plateon New Year's Sunday without a pang. "

"Fifty thousand!" gasped the Tyro. 

"Oh, the modern American girl is a high-priced luxury. Are you worth amillion dollars?"

"No. "

"See any prospect of getting a million?"

"Not the slightest. "

"Well, do you think it would be fair to a girl like Cecily, with anupbringing which--"

"Which imbecility and snobbery have combined to make the worstimaginable, " cut in Judge Enderby. 

"I don't say you're wrong. But it's what she's had. That kind of life isno longer a luxury to her. It's a necessity. "

"Twaddle!" observed the judge. 

"Have it your own way, " allowed the father patiently. "But there's thesituation, " he added to the Tyro. "What are you going to do with it?"

The Tyro looked him between the eyes. "The best I can, " said he, andwalked away. 

"Now, Enderby, " said the great financier, following him with his glance, "it's up to the boy and the girl. "

"You've killed him off. "

"Not if I know Cecily. She's got a good deal of her mother in her. I'vealways known it would be once and forever with her. And I'm afraid thisboy is the once. "

"It might be worse, " suggested the lawyer dryly. 

"Yes. I've made inquiries. But what can a man know about things?" Thegreat man's regard drifted out into the gray distance of the open sea. "Ah, if I had her mother back again!"

"The boy is fine and honorable and manful, Wayne, " said the old lawyer. "To be sure, you'll never make a Wall Street dollar-hound out of him--"

"Heaven knows I don't want to. "

"But he'll play his part in the world and play it well. I've come tothink a good deal of that boy. I wish I were as sure of the girl. "

"Cecily? Don't you worry about her. " The father chuckled pridefully. "She's got stuff in her. I'd trust her to start the world with as I didwith her mother. "

What of Little Miss Grouch, while all these momentous happenings were inprogress? Events had piled up on her sturdy little nerves rather toofast even for their youthful strength. The emotional turmoil of whichthe Tyro was the cause, the tension of meeting her father again, and, ontop of these, the startling occurrences on the deck of the tender hadstretched her endurance a little beyond its limit, and it was with asense of grateful refuge that she had betaken herself to the hospitalityof Lady Guenn's cabin. What transpired between the two women is nomatter for the pen of a masculine chronicler. Suffice it to note thatLord Guenn, surcharged with instructions to be casual, set out to findthe Tyro, and, having found him, blurted out:--

"I say, Smith, Cecily's in our cabin. If I were you I'd lose no timegetting there. It's the only one on the port side aft. "

No time was lost by the Tyro. He found Cecily alone. At sight of herface, his heart gave one painful thump, and shriveled up. 

"You've been crying, " he said. 

"I haven't!" she denied. "And if I have, there's enough to make me cry. "

"What was it?" was his sufficiently lame rejoinder. 

"I imagine if you'd seen your father beaten and kicked as I saw mine--"

"I didn't know who it was. "

"But if you had been shaken and cursed, yourself--"

"Cursed? Who cursed you?"

"You did. "

"I!"

"You said, 'D-d-damn you, let me go!'"

"I did _not_. I simply told you to let me go. "

"Well you might as well have said 'Damn you!' You meant it, " whimperedLittle Miss Grouch. 

"She might have been drowned, " said the Tyro. 

"So might you. I saved your life by not letting you go in after her. Andyou haven't a spark of gratitude. "

"Well, " began the Tyro, astounded at this sudden turn of strategy, "I_am_--"

"Go on and curse some more, " she advised. "I suppose you'd have kicked_me_ if I hadn't let go. "

He stared at her, speechless. 

"Now you've made me cu-cu-cry again. And my nose is all red. _Isn't_ mynose all red? Say 'Yes. '"

"Yes, " said the bewildered young man, obediently. 

"And I'm hoarse as a crow. _Am_ I? Say it!"

"Y-y-yes, " he stammered. 

"And I'm homely and frowsy, and dowdy and horrid and a perfect mess. AmI a mess? Say--"

"_No!_" The rebel in the Tyro broke bonds. "You're the loveliest andmost adorable and sweetest thing on this earth, and I love you. "

"I--I think you might have said it before, " said Little Miss Grouch in avery wee voice. 

"I'd no business to say it at all. But I simply couldn't go without--"

"Go?" she cried, startled. "Where?"

"Away. It doesn't matter where. "

"Away from me?"

"Yes. "

She faced him with leveled eyes, tearless now, and infinitely pleading. 

"You couldn't do that, " she said. 

"I must. "

"After--after last night, on deck? And--and now--what you've just said?"

"I can't help it, dear, " he said miserably. "I've been talking with yourfather. "

"Is it--is it our money?"

"Yes. "

"Are you a coward?" she flashed. "Afraid of what people would say?"

"Afraid of what you yourself would feel when you found yourself missingthe things you've been used to so long. "

"What do I care for those things? It's just a sort of snobbery in you. Oh, I'd have married you when I thought your name was Daddleskink!" shecried, with flaming face. "And now because we're different from what youthought, you--you--"

"You're not making it very easy for me, dear, " he said piteously. 

There came into her face, like an inspiration, a radiance of thetenderest fun. She put her hands one on each of his shoulders, and witha little soft catch in her voice, sang:--

 "Lady once loved a pig. 'Honey, ' said she, 'Pig, will you marry me?'--

"_You_ grunt!" she bade him. 

He strove to turn his face away. 

"Grunt, " she besought. "Grunt, Pig; Perfect Pig! Grunt now or foreverhold your peace. "

Then the clinging hands slipped forward, the soft arms closed about hisneck, and she was sobbing with her cheek pressed close to his cheek. 

"I won't _let_ you go. I won't! Never, never, never!"

"But I don't know what I'm to say to your father, darling, " he said, asthe grinding of the tender against the wharf brought them back torealities. 

"Leave him to me, " she bade him. "I'm going to send for him and JudgeEnderby now. "

The two appeared promptly. 

"Dad, " she said, "you remember what you said about the house on BatteryPlace?"

"I think I do. "

"That you'd get it for me if you had to buy off the option for amillion?"

"Correct. "

"And you're still Wayne of his Word?"

"Try me. "

"Give your check to Mr. Smith. Our price is just a million. Then, " sheadded with an entrancing blush, "you can give us the house as a weddingpresent. "

"So that's the bargain, is it?" queried the financier. 

"No. It isn't the bargain at all, " replied the Tyro, with quietfirmness. "The option isn't for sale. "

"Not at a million?"

"Certainly not at a million. It isn't worth anything like that. "

"A thing's worth what you can get for it. "

"For value received. Not for charity, with however glossy asugar-coating. If Miss Wayne--Cecily--"

"Little Miss Grouch, " corrected the girl with the smile of aparticularly pleased angel. 

"If Little Miss Grouch marries me, she will have to marry me on what I'mhonestly worth. "

"I'm content, " said Little Miss Grouch. 

"So am I, " said Mr. Wayne heartily. "You've come through, my boy. " Heset a friendly hand on the Tyro's shoulder. "As for Remsen Van Dam, " headded, scratching his head ruefully, "I might have known that Cecily'spick would be better than mine. Look here, children, " he added briskly, "let's get this thing over and done with away from the American papers. Enderby, how do Americans get married in England?"

"Give me five dol--I mean five hundred dollars, " responded the Judgepromptly. 

"What for?"

"Advice. "

[Illustration: "YOU'VE COME THROUGH, MY BOY"]

"Done, " said Mr. Wayne. 

"And leave it to me. Let me see. " He totaled up on his fingers. "Fiveand five is ten, and five is fifteen, and five hundred is five fifteen;a very fair profit on the voyage. It'll buy a wedding present for--"

"For the House of Smith on Battery Place, " said Little Miss Grouchdemurely. 

THE END

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