ounted
plausibly for the presence of man on earth. The process through
which we had passed could be understood by every intelligence. The
blazing satellite, violently detached from the parent sun starting
on its circumscribed orbit--that was the first stage, the gradual
subsidence of the flames and the cooling of the crust--the second
stage: the gases mingling and forming water which covered the
earth--the third stage; the retreating of the waters and the
appearance of the land--the fourth stage; the appearance of
vegetation and animal life--the fifth stage; then, after a long
interval and through constant evolution and change the appearance
of man, which was the sixth stage. What stages still to come, who
knows? This simple account given by science was, after all,
practically identical with the biblical legend!

It was when Shirley was face to face with Nature in her wildest
and most primitive aspects that this deep rooted religious feeling
moved her most strongly. At these times she felt herself another
being, exalted, sublimated, lifted from this little world with its
petty affairs and vanities up to dizzy heights. She had felt the
same sensation when for the first time she had viewed the glories
of the snow clad Matterhorn, she had felt it when on a summer's
night at sea she had sat on deck and watched with fascinated awe
the resplendent radiance of the countless stars, she felt it now
as she looked at the foaming, tumbling waves.

"It is so beautiful," she murmured as she turned to walk. The ship
was rolling a little and she took Jefferson's arm to steady
herself. Shirley was an athletic girl and had all the ease and
grace of carriage that comes of much tennis and golf playing.
Barely twenty-four years old, she was still in the first flush of
youth and health, and there was nothing she loved so much as
exercise and fresh air. After a few turns on deck, there was a
ruddy glow in her cheeks that was good to see and many an admiring
glance was cast at the young couple as they strode briskly up and
down past the double rows of elongated steamer chairs.

They had the deck pretty much to themselves. It was only four
o'clock, too early for the appetite-stimulating walk before
dinner, and their fellow passengers were basking in the sunshine,
stretched out on their chairs in two even rows like so many
mummies on exhibition. Some were reading, some were dozing. Two or
three were under the weather, completely prostrated,