y us
through the engine-rooms and the working portions of the ship whenever
we wished, ordered the deck steward, who was all but standing on his
head in obsequious desire to oblige, to take good care of us, shook
hands once more, and went away. Hephzibah drew a long breath.

"My goodness!" she exclaimed; "sit at HIS table! I guess not! There's
another lord and his wife there, to say nothin' of the Van Hooks. I'd
look pretty, in my Cape Cod clothes, perched up there, wouldn't I! A hen
is all right in her place, but she don't belong in a peacock cage. And
they drink champagne ALL the time there; I've watched 'em. No thank you,
I'll stay in the henyard along with the everyday fowls."

"Odd that he should have known Father," I observed. "Well, I suppose the
proper remark to make, under the circumstances, is that this is a small
world. That is what nine-tenths of Bayport would say."

"It's what I say, too," declared Hephzy, with emphasis. "Well, it's
awful encouraging for us, isn't it."

"Encouraging? What do you mean?"

"Why, I mean about Little Frank. It makes me feel surer than ever that
we shall run across him."

I suppressed a groan. "Hephzy," said I, "why on earth should the fact
that Captain Stone knew my father encourage you to believe that we shall
meet a person we never knew at all?"

"Hosy, how you do talk! If you and I, just cruisin' this way across
the broadside of creation, run across a man that knew Cousin Philander
thirty-nine years ago, isn't it just as reasonable to suppose we'll meet
a child who was born twenty-one years ago? I should say 'twas! Hosy,
I've had a presentiment about this cruise of ours: We're SENT on it;
that's what I think--we're sent. Oh, you can laugh! You'll see by and
by. THEN you won't laugh."

"No, Hephzy," I admitted, resignedly, "I won't laugh then, I promise
you. If _I_ ever reach the stage where I see a Little Frank I promise
you I sha'n't laugh. I'll believe diseases of the brain are contagious,
like the measles, and I'll send for a doctor."

The captain met us again in the dining-room that evening. He came
over to our table and chatted for some time. His visit caused quite a
sensation. Shipboard society is a little world by itself and the ship's
captain is the head of it. Persons who would, very likely, have passed
Captain Stone on Fifth Avenue or Piccadilly without recognizing him now
toadied to him as if he were a Czar, which, in a way, I suppose he is
when afloat.