falling asleep became instantly converted into a vision of exquisite
childhood, all pink cheeks, golden curls, and rounded limbs. As for
Katrine she felt very tired, very lazy, very thankful that her hair was
curled by nature not by art, very content to lie back in her luxurious
chair and be amused and waited upon by a man who appeared abundantly
satisfied to be so employed. The voyage had turned, so far as she was
concerned, into one long _tete-a-tete_, for Bedford had presented so
impenetrable a front to would-be acquaintances, that he was now left
severely alone to devote himself to her amusement.

Mrs Mannering joked and quizzed, Keith kept sourly afar, the passengers
stared with mounting curiosity, and Katrine, who had lived all her life
beneath the tyranny of "They say," amazed herself by a sudden reckless
indifference. _Let_ them say! Let them stare! Let them laugh!--It
meant nothing to her. These days were her own; not an hour, not a
moment should be wasted though a whole world criticised.--It is a truism
that in the growth of friendship a day at sea is equal to a week on
shore; less than a week had passed since Bedford joined the ship, yet
Katrine acknowledged to herself that they had reached a degree of
intimacy which she at least had never before experienced. There was not
a subject which had engrossed her attention, not a problem which had
baffled, not a hope or a fear, an ambition or a dream, save only those
which concerned Jim Blair, which she had not discussed at length with
this friend of a few days, and each fresh discussion left her more
conscious of help and sympathy, and of profound admiration for his
broad-minded, open-hearted character. Now the high-water mark of
intimacy had been reached when silence could be prolonged without
apology, a vibrant silence broken at length by a remark which but put
into words the point to which the thoughts of each had arrived. Katrine
had at first been amused and delighted at this similarity of thought;
later on she grew afraid.

This morning the great heat was not conducive to conversation. Katrine
held a book on her lap, and from time to time flicked over pages, but
she was too languid even to read; from time to time her eyes met
Bedford's and they smiled a wordless greeting. The morning was not half
over, but already her eyelids drooped heavily; she shut the book, and
composed herself to sleep.

Suddenly, startlingly, the torpid silence was rent in t