tropical garden.

"I never gave a thought to the weather," purred Isobel again, as she
subsided more deeply into the cushions.

"Let us hope such a blissful state of mind may be justified. But you
know, dear, we may run into a dreadful gale before we reach the
Straits."

Isobel laughed.

"All the better!" she cried. "People tell me I am a most fascinating
invalid. I look like a creamy orchid. And what luck to have a chum so
disinterested as you where a lot of nice men are concerned! What have
I done to deserve it? Because you are really charming, you know."

"Does that mean that you have already discovered a lot of nice men on
board?"

Elsie handed her friend a cup of tea and a plate of toast.

"Naturally. While you were mooning over the lights and tints of the
Andes, I kept an eye, both eyes in fact, on our compulsory
acquaintances of the next three weeks. To begin with, there's the
captain."

"He is good-looking, certainly. Somewhat reserved, I fancied."

"Reserved!" Isobel showed all her fine teeth in a smile.
Incidentally, she took a satisfactory bite out of a square of toast.
"I 'll soon shake the reserve out of him. He is mine. You will see
him play pet dog long before we meet that terrible gale of yours."

"Isobel, you promised your father--"

"To look after my health during the voyage. Do you think that I intend
only to sleep, eat, and read novels all the way to London? Then,
indeed, I should be ill. But there is a French Comte on the ship. He
is mine, too."

"You mean to find safety in numbers?"

"Oh, there are others. Of course, I am sure of my little Count. He
twisted his mustache with such an air when I skidded past him in the
companionway."

Elsie bent forward to give the chatterer another cup of tea.

"And you promised to read Moliere at least two hours daily!" she sighed
good-humoredly. Even the most sensible people, and Elsie was very
sensible, begin a long voyage with idiotic programs of work to be done.

"I mean to substitute a live Frenchman for a dead one--that is all.
And I am sure Monsieur le Comte Edouard de Poincilit will do our French
far more good than 'Les Fourberies de Scapin.'"

"Am I to be included in the lessons? And you actually know the man's
name already?"

"Read it on his luggage, dear girl. He has such a lot. See if he
doesn't wear three different colored shirts for breakfast, lunch, and
tea. And, if _you_ refuse to help, who is to take