om. At his own table there were the usual
assorted types of the middle-class tourist, his wife and family, most of
them frankly glad that they were homeward bound, with the greatest part
of their pilgrimage accomplished.

The sea was smooth and the great boat forged ahead with scarcely any
motion, so that every seat was occupied and every one in good spirits.
There was a hum of talk and rattle of dishes; the white-coated stewards
scuttled back and forth, and the scene was as pleasant as the wholesale
human consumption of food can ever be.

Dan went on with his dinner with one eye on the far table where Miss
Vard and her father were seated; but his attention was distracted for a
time by a discussion which an Anglomaniac across the table started as
to the relative merits of England and America, and to which he could not
resist contributing a few remarks. When he glanced across the saloon
again, he saw that Miss Vard and her father were no longer there.
However, he finished his dinner with the comfortable consciousness that
the second-class quarters were limited, and that she could not escape
from them except by jumping overboard; and when the meal was ended, he
made his way leisurely through the lounge and along the decks in search
of her. There were girls, girls everywhere, but not the one he sought;
and finally, with a little smile, he mounted the ladder which led to the
after boat-deck.

Already other couples, scouting about the ship, had discovered the
advantages of its dim seclusion, and most of the benches in the lee of
the boats and about the little wireless-house were occupied; but, on
that one bench, in the shadow of the after life-boat, Dan descried a
solitary figure. He advanced without hesitation.

"I was hoping I should find you," he said.

She moved a little aside, as an invitation for him to share the bench.

"I like it up here," she said, "with no light but the stars, and that
strange luminous glow along those wires up yonder."

Looking up, Dan saw that the gridiron of wires stretched between the
masts was, indeed, faintly luminous against the sky.

"That's the wireless," he said. "Listen--you can hear it," and from the
open window of the wireless-house came the vicious snap and crackle of
electricity. "The operator is sending a message."

She looked up again at the glowing wires.

"I think it the most wonderful thing in the world!" she said. "I can't
understand it--I can't believe it--and yet,