ant. "Make
her have a good time. Poor thing, she'll find it pretty dull if she
hangs to her father all the time."

"He isn't a very amusing-looking old chap, is he? If that man hasn't the
gout and half a dozen other troubles I'll jump overboard."

The couple arousing the interest of the young men stood near the forward
end of the deck-house. The young woman's face was beaming with an
inspiration awakened by the singers. Her companion, tall, gray and
unimpressionable, listened as if through coercion and not for pleasure.
His lean face, red with apoplectic hues, grim with the wrinkles of three
score years or more, showed clear signs of annoyance. The thin gray
moustache was impatiently gnawed, first on one side and then on the
other. Then the military streak of gray that bristled forth as an
imperial was pushed upward and between the lips by bony fingers. He was
a picture of dutiful rebellion, Immaculately dressed was he, and
distinguished from the soles of his pointed shoes to the beak of his
natty cap. A light colored newmarket of the most fashionable cut was
buttoned closely about his thin figure.

The young woman was not tall, nor was she short; she was of that
indefinite height known as medium. Her long green coat fitted her
snugly and perfectly; a cap of the same material was perched jauntily
upon her dark hair. The frolicking wind had torn several strands from
beneath the cap, and despite the efforts of her gloved fingers, they
whipped and fluttered in tantalizing confusion. In the dimming afternoon
the Americans could see that she was exquisitely beautiful. They could
see the big dark eyes, almost timid in the hiding places beyond the
heavy fringing lashes. Her dark hair threw the rich face into clear
relief,--fresh, bright, eager. The men were not close enough to observe
with minuteness its features, but its brilliancy was sufficient to
excite even marvelling admiration. It was one of those faces at which
one could look for ever and still feel there was a charm about it he had
not caught.

"I've never seen such a face before," again murmured Ridgeway.

"Tastes differ," said Veath. "Now, if you'll pardon me, I think Miss
Ridge is the more beautiful. She is taller and has better style.
Besides, I like fair women. What say?" The question was prompted by the
muttered oath that came from Hugh.

"Nothing at all," he almost snarled. "Say, Veath, don't always be
talking to me about my sister," he finally jerked ou