ed disgust at the blindness of
man. When the hotel was reached, and she and Katrine sat alone for a
few minutes waiting the arrival of drinks, she looked at the girl with a
kindly twinkle and said abruptly:

"No need to take it to heart, my dear. Your own fault! You were worth
looking at, and he looked--that's all! A cat may look at a king."

Katrine smiled faintly.

"Yes--of course. Stupid of me. But there was something in his eyes
that--startled! Did you ever have that curious feeling on meeting a
stranger? Not recognition--it's more like expectation--as if he
_mattered_!"

Mrs Mannering grunted again.

"I know a fool when I see him, and an honest man. I know when to be
civil, or to give a wide berth. Common-sense, I call it; not curious at
all. Rather a fine figure, that man! You'd make a good pair. I've
been thinking, you know, he might be that friend who is coming on
board... Eh, what?"

To her surprise Katrine violently resented the suggestion.

"Oh, _no_!" she cried loudly. "I am sure he is not. Captain Bedford
will be quite different." A look almost of fear flitted over her face.
"I'm quite sure it was not he!"

Mrs Mannering shrugged her shoulders, "Well! have it your own way. If
I were a pretty, unattached female, and was introduced to that man as my
travelling companion, I should feel I was in for a good time! On the
other hand, if you were a bride, my dear, I'd stick to you like glue,
out of sympathy for the poor man waiting his turn..."

Katrine hesitated, fighting an impulse which prompted her to confide in
this kind, shrewd woman, to confess the real object of her journey, and
secure her help and counsel. The words trembled on her lip; another
second and they would have found speech; then the door opened and Vernon
Keith appeared, followed by a waiter bearing refreshments. The
opportunity was past.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

On returning to the ship Katrine found several letters waiting, one of
which bore Jim Blair's well-known writing. She tore it open immediately
on reaching her cabin, and was disappointed to find it unusually short.
Excitement, restlessness, and an unusual press of business made it
impossible, he explained, to write at length, the more so as he was
pledged not to speak of the subject which lay nearest his heart. He
hoped she had made some woman friend on board, who would look after her,
as not even the best of men could do. Bedford would probably ha