rger, and the very sight of a monocle affected his
disposition. Meanwhile Mr. Andy Black had made good use of his time.
At the end of twenty-four hours he had spoken to virtually everybody
on board, including the gray-haired old missionary who passed
cream-peppermints about the deck at a quarter to ten every morning. He
had played quoits with Elise Weston, punched the bag with the college
boys, and taught Bobby Boynton to dance the tango. So obnoxious was
the sight of him to the Honorable Percival that he turned his chair
to the wall and buried himself in "Guillim's Display of Heraldry." He
considered it as a personal affront on the part of Fate that just as he
was beginning to find the voyage endurable this prancing young montebank
should appear to spoil everything.

For the next two days he sternly avoided Bobby Boynton. His somewhat
pompous letter of apology to the captain, in which he set forth at
length the various unforeseen accidents that had caused him to miss the
steamer, was curtly and ungraciously received, and strained relations
ensued. Moreover, as he viewed the recent adventure in retrospect, he
decided that he had been most negligent in observing those rules by
which the conduct of an English gentleman should be regulated. In
condescending to be amused he had gone too far, and it was now incumbent
upon him to nip in the bud any gossip that might have risen concerning
his attentions to the daughter of that odious captain.

Bobby survived the withdrawal of his favor with amazing indifference.
What puzzled and annoyed him beyond measure was that the more oblivious
of him she seemed, the more acutely aware of her he became. Twenty times
a day he assured himself that it made no earthly difference to him
whether she was playing quoits with the Scotchman or bean-bag with Andy
Black, and yet not a page of his book would become intelligible until he
made a round of the deck to find out what she was doing. The evenings
were even worse: midnight often found him wrapped in his rug in his
steamer-chair or morosely pacing the deck, waiting for some festivity
in which Bobby was engaged to come to an end. The shocking lack of
chaperonage and the liberty allowed young girls in the States served
as themes for more than one bitter letter home.

But his cold aloofness was not destined to last. One morning when most
of the passengers were concerned with the appearance of Bird Island on
the horizon, he stumbled quite by acci