he experienced voyager would recognise as
being desirably sheltered. She was evidently giving an order concerning
the placing of her deck chair, which was presently brought. An elegantly
neat and decorous person in black, who was evidently her maid, appeared
later, followed by a steward who carried cushions and sumptuous fur
rugs. These being arranged, a delightful corner was left alluringly
prepared. Miss Vanderpoel, after her instructions to the deck steward,
had joined her party and seemed to be awaiting some arrival anxiously.

"She knows how to do herself well," Salter commented, "and she realises
that forethought is a practical factor. Millions have been productive of
composure. It is not unnatural, either."

It was but a short time later that the warning bell was rung. Stewards
passed through the crowds calling out, "All ashore, if you please--all
ashore." Final embraces were in order on all sides. People shook hands
with fervour and laughed a little nervously. Women kissed each other and
poured forth hurried messages to be delivered on the other side of
the Atlantic. Having kissed and parted, some of them rushed back and
indulged in little clutches again. Notwithstanding that the tide of
humanity surges across the Atlantic almost as regularly as the daily
tide surges in on its shores, a wave of emotion sweeps through every
ship at such partings.

Salter stood on deck and watched the crowd dispersing. Some of the
people were laughing and some had red eyes. Groups collected on the
wharf and tried to say still more last words to their friends crowding
against the rail.

The Worthingtons kept their places and were still looking out, by this
time disappointedly. It seemed that the friend or friends they
expected were not coming. Salter saw that Miss Vanderpoel looked more
disappointed than the rest. She leaned forward and strained her eyes to
see. Just at the last moment there was the sound of trampling horses and
rolling wheels again. From the arriving carriage descended hastily an
elderly woman, who lifted out a little boy excited almost to tears. He
was a dear, chubby little person in flapping sailor trousers, and he
carried a splendidly-caparisoned toy donkey in his arms. Salter could
not help feeling slightly excited himself as they rushed forward. He
wondered if they were passengers who would be left behind.

They were not passengers, but the arrivals Miss Vanderpoel had been
expecting so ardently. They ha