orry," she wrote, in the artistic script that looks so well in face
cream and soap advertisements, "I can't for the life of me remember
the number; but Miss Wynton lives somewhere in Warburton Gardens." The
signature, "Millicent Jaques," was an elegant thing in itself,
carefully thought out and never hurried in execution, no matter how
pressed she might be for time. Spencer was on the point of scattering
the note in little pieces along the Strand; but he checked himself.

"Guess I'll keep this as a souvenir," he said, and it found a place in
his pocketbook.

Helen Wynton, having crossed the Channel many times during her
childhood, was no novice amid the bustle and crush on the narrow pier
at Dover. She had dispensed with all accessories for the journey,
except the few articles that could be crammed into a handbag. Thus,
being independent of porters, she was one of the first to reach the
steamer's gangway. As usual, all the most sheltered nooks on board
were occupied. There seems to be a mysterious type of traveler who
inhabits the cross-Channel vessels permanently. No matter how speedy
may be the movements of a passenger by the boat-train, either at Dover
or Calais, the best seats on the upper deck invariably reveal the
presence of earlier arrivals by deposits of wraps and packages. This
phenomenon was not strange to Helen. A more baffling circumstance was
the altered shape of the ship. The familiar lines of the paddle
steamer were gone, and Helen was wondering where she might best bestow
herself and her tiny valise, when she heard Bower's voice.

"I took the precaution to telegraph from London to one of the ship's
officers," he said, and nodded toward a couple of waterproof rugs
which guarded a recess behind the Captain's cabin. "That is our
corner, I expect. My friend will be here in a moment."

Sure enough, a man in uniform approached and lifted his gold laced
cap. "We have a rather crowded ship, Mr. Bower," he said; "but you
will be quite comfortable there. I suppose you deemed the weather too
fine to need your usual cabin?"

"Yes. I have a companion to-day, you see."

Helen was a little bewildered by this; but it was very pleasant to
claim undisputed possession of a quiet retreat from which to watch
others trying to find chairs. And, although Bower had a place reserved
by her side, he did not sit down. He chatted for a few minutes on such
eminently safe topics as the smooth sea, the superiority of turbine
en