d Morris, "a good picture of
my father's weak side. And what was his definition of myself?"

"He said that you were in his opinion one of the most interesting people
that he had ever met; that you were a dreamer and a mystic; that you
cared for few of the things which usually attract young men, and that
you were in practice almost a misogynist. He added that, although
heretofore you had not succeeded, he thought that you possessed real
genius in certain lines, but that you had not your father's 'courtly
air,' that was his term. Of course, I am only repeating, so you must not
be angry."

"Well," said Morris, "I asked for candour and I have got it. Without
admitting the accuracy of his definitions, I must say that I never
thought that pompous old Tomley had so much observation." Then he added
quickly, to change the subject, since the possible discussion of his own
attributes, physical or mental, alarmed him, "Miss Fregelius, you have
not told me how you came to be left aboard the ship."

"Really, Mr. Monk, I don't know. I heard a confused noise in my sleep,
and when I woke up it was to find myself alone, and the saloon half full
of water. I suppose that after the vessel struck, the sailors, thinking
that she was going down, got off at once, taking my father, who had been
injured and made insensible in some way, with them as he happened to
be on deck, leaving me to my chance. You know, we were the only
passengers."

"Were you not frightened when you found yourself all alone like that?"

"Yes, at first, dreadfully; then I was so distressed about my father,
whom I thought dead, and angry with them for deserting me, that I forgot
to be frightened, and afterwards--well, I was too proud. Besides, we
must die alone, every one of us, so we may as well get accustomed to the
idea."

Morris shrugged his shoulders impatiently.

"You think that I need not talk so much about our mortal end. Well,
perhaps under all the circumstances, we may as well keep our thoughts on
this world--while it lasts. You have not told me, Mr. Monk, how you came
to be sailing about alone this morning. Did you come out to look at the
wreck?"

"Do you think that I am mad?" he asked, not without indignation. "Should
I make a journey at night, in a November fog, with every chance of
a gale coming up, to the Sunk Rocks in this cockle-shell, and alone,
merely to look at the place where, as I understood rather vaguely, a
foreign tramp steamer had gone dow