she's over the'a." She pointed, and then shrank
and slipped away.

XVIII.

At breakfast Mrs. Milray would not meet Clementina's eye; she talked to
the people across the table in a loud, lively voice, and then suddenly
rose, and swept past her out of the saloon.

The girl did not see her again till Mrs. Milray came up on the promenade
at the hour when people who have eaten too much breakfast begin to spoil
their appetite for luncheon with the tea and bouillon of the
deck-stewards. She looked fiercely about, and saw Clementina seated in
her usual place, but with Lord Lioncourt in her own chair next her
husband, and Ewins on foot before her. They were both talking to
Clementina, whom Lord Lioncourt was accusing of being in low spirits
unworthy of her last night's triumphs. He jumped up, and offered his
place, "I've got your chair, Mrs. Milray."

"Oh, no," she said, coldly, "I was just coming to look after Mr. Milray.
But I see he's in good hands."

She turned away, as if to make the round of the deck, and Ewins hurried
after her. He came back directly, and said that Mrs. Milray had gone into
the library to write letters. He stayed, uneasily, trying to talk, but
with the air of a man who has been snubbed, and has not got back his
composure.

Lord Lioncourt talked on until he had used up the incidents of the night
before, and the probabilities of their getting into Queenstown before
morning; then he and Mr. Ewins went to the smoking-room together, and
Clementina was left alone with Milray.

"Clementina," he said, gently, "I don't see everything; but isn't there
some trouble between you and Mrs. Milray?"

"Why, I don't know what it can be," answered the girl, with trembling
lips. "I've been trying to find out, and I can't undastand it."

"Ah, those things are often very obscure," said Milray, with a patient
smile.

Clementina wanted to ask him if Mrs. Milray had said anything to him
about her, but she could not, and he did not speak again till he heard
her stir in rising from her chair. Then he said, "I haven't forgotten
that letter to my sister, Clementina. I will give it to you before we
leave the steamer. Are you going to stay in Liverpool, over night, or
shall you go up to London at once?"

"I don't know. It will depend upon how Mrs. Landa feels."

"Well, we shall see each other again. Don't be worried." He looked up at
her with a smile, and he could not see how forlornly she returned it.

As the da