e to remember it as that of the
lady with whom she was to have shared a cabin. The smiling face had once
been a pretty one, but the tide of youth was fast receding, leaving
uncovered a bleak and barren shore, whose chief salients were a
disdainful nose and a mouth which looked as if it might be able to say
bitter things. The eyes, however, were still handsome, if supercilious,
and her manners velvety. No doubt there were claws beneath the velvet,
but they were not for April . . . only for the girl who was using April's
name! They had not talked for five minutes before she realized that in
this woman Diana had an enemy. Not that Mrs. Stanislaw's words were
censorious. She was too clever for that. Her remarks were merely
deprecative and full of pity.

"A most amazing creature," she said gently, "but rather disturbing to
live with. I confess I wish I had been cribbed and cabined with someone
who had more conventional manners and kept earlier hours."

Here was something for April to ponder.

"She is very young," she faltered at length, and was unwise enough to
add, "and pretty."

These being two heinous offences in the eyes of Mrs. Stanislaw, she
proceeded at once to hang, draw, and quarter the criminal. But her voice
was tenderer than before.

"Yes, isn't it a pity? . . . and so foolishly indiscreet. Do you know,
they tell me that she is spoken of by all the men on the ship as the
April Fool, a parody on her name, which is April Poole."

Pleasant hearing for her listener, who flushed scarlet.

"Can you imagine any one who has a living to earn being so unwise? I
find it difficult to believe she is going to the Cape to teach someone's
children. I only hope that the story of her indiscretions will not
precede her, poor girl."

April was dumb. Mrs. Stanislaw came to the conclusion that she was dull
and rather lacking in feminine sweetness, and after a while went away to
bargain with a native for some embroideries. She would have been
delighted to know what a poisoned barb she had implanted and left
quivering in the side of the so-called Lady Diana.

Beneath the folded V of filmy lace on April's bosom her heart was beating
passionately, and the rose-wreathed hat fortunately drooped enough to
hide the tears of mortification that filled her eyes. _Her_ name to be
parodied and bandied about the ship on men's lips! A poor thing, but her
own! One that for all her ups and downs she had striven and contrived