y of the watching eyes. When she returned,
fresh and rosy, her companion departed in her turn, and returned just as
Katrine was finishing her hair in time to announce briskly:

"Warm sunny day! Seen three girls in white frocks. Sport one yourself,
and cut 'em out! Great thing to make a good impression!"

"I don't care,"--began Katrine haughtily, then the spirit of the hour
choked the words in her throat. "Yes, after all, I _do_!" she laughed,
and kneeling before her cabin trunk lifted a fresh white frock from the
tray. "I'll put on this, and do credit to our cabin!"

"Cheers!" cried the stranger, and with a pleasing frankness extracted
her false teeth.

Katrine mounted the steps to the deck. There was still half an hour to
spare before breakfast, but she wished it had been twice as long, as she
paced slowly down the shining deck, and tasted for the first time the
deep salt brine of the breeze. Only fifteen hours before she had
shivered in rain and chill; now the sun was shining out of a cloudless
sky, and the breeze was warm and sweet. The exhilaration of it all!
The great vessel in its shining order, the air, the spray, the lap of
the great green flood, the kaleidoscopic procession of passengers,
strolling like herself, bareheaded, white-robed, revelling in the first
taste of heat after the Northern cold!

Katrine was loath to tear herself away from the fascinating scene, but
the duty of interviewing the steward lay before her. She descended,
armed with a golden key, proffered her request, and met with a gracious
consent.

Nothing could be easier. A party of three were landing at Port Said;
Miss Beverley could be given a place at the same table, and Captain
Bedford could also be accommodated on arrival.

So far so good! Katrine ate her breakfast with an enjoyment heightened
by her fast of the night before, came to the conclusion that she should
not grieve over the departure of the Port Said trio, and armed with a
book and a sunshade, mounted once more to the deck.

The first business was to find her chair, and a difficult search it
promised to be. She was wandering aimlessly to and fro reading the
names attached to the backs of the serried rows, when a voice spoke in
her ear:

"Can I help?" it asked. "You are looking for a chair, I think. If you
give me the name, I'd be delighted to find it for you."

The speaker was a tall, strikingly handsome man of some twenty-four or
five years. Katrine