a matter of fact, we are
sharing a state-room on board now."

"Eustace is on board! Oh, this is awful! What shall I do when I meet
him?"

"Oh, pass it off with a light laugh and a genial quip. Just say: 'Oh,
here you are!' or something. You know the sort of thing."

"It will be terrible."

"Not a bit of it. Why should you feel embarrassed? He must have realised
by now that you acted in the only possible way. It was absurd his ever
expecting you to marry him. I mean to say, just look at it
dispassionately ... Eustace ... poor old Eustace ... and _you_! The
Princess and the Swineherd!"

"Does Mr. Hignett keep pigs?" she asked, surprised.

"I mean that poor old Eustace is so far below you, darling, that, with
the most charitable intentions, one can only look on his asking you to
marry him in the light of a record exhibition of pure nerve. A dear,
good fellow, of course, but hopeless where the sterner realities of life
are concerned. A man who can't even stop a dog-fight! In a world which
is practically one seething mass of fighting dogs, how could you trust
yourself to such a one? Nobody is fonder of Eustace Hignett than I am,
but ... well, I mean to say!"

"I see what you mean. He really wasn't my ideal."

"Not by a mile!"

She mused, her chin in her hand.

"Of course, he was quite a dear in a lot of ways."

"Oh, a splendid chap," said Sam tolerantly.

"Have you ever heard him sing? I think what first attracted me to him
was his beautiful voice. He really sings extraordinarily well."

A slight but definite spasm of jealousy afflicted Sam. He had no
objection to praising poor old Eustace within decent limits, but the
conversation seemed to him to be confining itself too exclusively to one
subject.

"Yes?" he said. "Oh yes, I've heard him sing. Not lately. He does
drawing-room ballads and all that sort of thing still, I suppose?"

"Have you ever heard him sing 'My love is like a glowing tulip that in
an old-world garden grows'?"

"I have not had that advantage," replied Sam stiffly. "But anyone can
sing a drawing-room ballad. Now something funny, something that will
make people laugh, something that really needs putting across ... that's
a different thing altogether."

"Do you sing that sort of thing?"

"People have been good enough to say...."

"Then," said Billie decidedly, "you must certainly do something at the
ship's concert to-morrow! The idea of your trying to hide your light
under a bushel