ss her by, but because she plainly
preferred the young American. It had not occurred to Mr. Ridgeway that
his Lordship might be expected, with reasonable propriety, to unmask a
jealous streak in addition to other disagreeable traits. The British
subalterns probably knew the temper of the old diplomat's mind, which,
in a degree, explains their readiness to forgo the pleasure of a mild
flirtation with her Ladyship. Hugh, feeling like a despised pariah,
naturally turned to her in his banishment. She was his friend, his one
beacon of light in the dark sea of unhappiness.

Others noticed it; but Hugh was blind to the scowl which never left the
face of Lord Huntingford in these days. The old nobleman knew full well
that his wife loathed and detested him--just as the whole ship knew it;
his pride rankled and writhed with the fear that she was finding more
than friendship to enjoy in her daily intercourse with the good-looking
Mr. Ridge. Gradually it became noticeable that he was watching her every
act with spiteful eyes, and more than one observer winked softly at his
neighbor, and shook his head with a meaning unmistakable.

The clash came one night in the Red Sea, just before the ship reached
Aden. Hugh, reviling himself and the whole world, had been compelled to
stand by and see Lieutenant Gilmore, a dashing Irishman, drag the
unwilling Miss Ridge off for a waltz. Her protestations had been of no
avail; Gilmore was abominable enough to say that she had no right to
stow herself away with a stupid old brother when there were so many
"real nice chaps on board." And this in Hugh's presence, too! And he
could not resent it! Alone and miserable the pariah sent his unspoken,
bitter lamentation to the stars as he stood in savage loneliness far
aft, listening to the strains of waltz music.

"'Pon my soul! Of all the assinine idiots, bar none, the enlightened
inspirer of this glorious voyage certainly ranks supreme! And I didn't
have brains enough to foresee that this would surely happen! Brains?
Faugh! Chump!"

Hugh might have apostrophized himself in this fashion until dawn had not
a harsh, rasping voice from out of the semi-darkness broken in on his
doleful revery.

"Pardon me, sir, do you play cribbage?"

Hugh turned half about and faced the speaker. He could hardly believe
his ears, his eyes. Was it possible that the haughty Lord Huntingford
had fixed upon him as the next lamb to be fleeced? Ugly stories
concerning the go