haven't much ear for music, and I
hoped I would get an easy tune; but when my partner, a long, thin,
earnest man, with a stutter, burst on me and whistled wildly in my
face, I had the hopeless feeling that I had never heard the tune
before. In his earnestness he came nearer and nearer, his contortions
every moment becoming more extraordinary, his whistling more piercing;
and I, by this time convulsed by awful, helpless laughter, could only
shrink farther back in my seat and gasp feebly, "Please don't."

Mrs. Crawley was not much better. In my own misery I was aware of
her voice saying politely, "I have no idea what the tune is, but you
whistle beautifully--quite like a gramophone."

When my disgusted and exhausted partner ceased trying to emulate a
steam-engine and began to look human again, I timidly inquired what he
had been whistling. "The tune," he replied very stiffly, "was 'Rule,
Britannia!'"

"Dear me," I replied meekly, "I thought at least it was something
from _Die Meistersinger_;" but he deigned no reply and walked away,
evidently hating me quite bitterly. I shan't play that game again, and
I can't believe the silly man really whistled "Rule, Britannia,"
for it is a simple tune and one with which I am entirely at home,
whereas--but no matter!

G. won by guessing "Annie Laurie." She is splendid at all games, and
did I tell you how well she sings? In the cabin, when we are alone,
she sings to me snatches of all sorts of songs, grave and gay, but she
won't sing in the saloon, where every other woman on board with
the smallest pretensions to a voice carols nightly. She is a most
attractive person this G., with quaint little whimsical ways that make
her very lovable. We are together every minute of the day, and yet we
never tire of one another's company. I rather think I do most of the
talking. If it is true that to be slow in words is a woman's only
virtue, then, indeed, is my state pitiable, for talk I must, and G. is
a delightful person to talk to. She listens to my tales of Peter
and the others, and asks for more, and shouts with laughter at the
smallest joke. I pass as a wit with G., and have a great success. She
is going to stay with a married sister for the cold weather. Quite
like me, only I'm going to an unmarried brother. I think we are both
getting slightly impertinent to our elders. They tease us so at meals
in the saloon we have to answer back in self-defence, and it is very
difficult to help try