awful dance, the last few months. And you were head over heels in love
with Miss Bultiwell, weren't you?"

"I adored her," Jacob declared, taking a long gulp of the whisky and
soda which he had brought in for a nightcap. "Worshipped her," he
added, finishing it with much satisfaction.

Felixstowe sighed sympathetically.

"Rotten luck for you, having 'em on board, honeymooning," he observed.
"Never mind, keep a stiff upper lip, old thing. Let me know if I can
butt in any time on the right side. You'll perhaps stay in your
stateroom to-morrow?"

"Not I!" was the hasty reply. "I shall face it out."

"Hero!" his companion murmured. "Don't you brood over this thing,
Jacob. Close your eyes and try and count sheep, or something of that
sort. Call me in if you get very melancholy during the night, and I'll
read to you."

"You needn't worry," Jacob assured him. "I have an iron will. And
don't be so long in the bath to-morrow morning."

"Tap three times on the door," the young man enjoined, "and I will
remember that it is my master's voice."

CHAPTER XXV

They steamed slowly past the Statue of Liberty, early in the afternoon
a few days later. Jacob and his young companion were leaning over the
rail, watching the great, tangled city slowly define itself through a
shroud of mist.

"One good thing about this voyage," the latter remarked
sympathetically, "it's taken your mind off yourself--made you forget
your troubles, in a kind of way."

"You mean about poor Sam?"

"I'm afraid I wasn't thinking about your brother," Felixstowe
confessed. "I was thinking of the other little affair. Of course, it's
been rather a bad egg for you, so to speak, having her pop up every
minute or two, but there's something about life on one of these great
liners--I don't know what it is, but you seem to be able to shove all
sorts of things out of your mind, eh?"

Jacob felt for a moment rather ashamed of himself. It was not like him
to be inconstant in anything, and he would not for a moment admit that
what he had regarded as the passion of his life had been merely a
fantasy. At the same time, he could not ignore the fact that during
the last few days he had been conscious of a sense of freedom which
was altogether pleasant.

"I have conquered that," he declared proudly. "For me it is finished.
You must have observed my indifference at dinner last night. I find
myself able to converse with her now without the slightest emotion."