e realists might not be fooled by their own
phrases as often and as completely as were the poor common mortals with
the vital lies they never questioned.

And there we were. An ordinary young woman, who had never vexed her
brains with ultimate problems, hears such things stated for the first
time, and immediately, and with a laugh, sweeps them all away. I doubt
not that De Casseres would have agreed with her.

"Do you believe in God?" I asked rather abruptly. She dropped her sewing
into her lap, looked at me meditatively, then gazed on and away across
the flashing sea and up into the azure dome of sky. And finally, with
true feminine evasion, she replied:

"My father does."

"But you?" I insisted.

"I really don't know. I don't bother my head about such things. I used
to when I was a little girl. And yet . . . yes, surely I believe in God.
At times, when I am not thinking about it at all, I am very sure, and my
faith that all is well is just as strong as the faith of your Jewish
friend in the phrases of the philosophers. That's all it comes to, I
suppose, in every case--faith. But, as I say, why bother?"

"Ah, I have you now, Miss West!" I cried. "You are a true daughter of
Herodias."

"It doesn't sound nice," she said with a _moue_.

"And it isn't," I exulted. "Nevertheless, it is what you are. It is
Arthur Symon's poem, _The Daughters of Herodias_. Some day I shall read
it to you, and you will answer. I know you will answer that you, too,
have looked often upon the stars."

We had just got upon the subject of music, of which she possesses a
surprisingly solid knowledge, and she was telling me that Debussy and his
school held no particular charm for her, when Possum set up a wild
yelping.

The puppy had strayed for'ard along the bridge to the 'midship-house, and
had evidently been investigating the chickens when his disaster came upon
him. So shrill was his terror that we both stood up. He was dashing
along the bridge toward us at full speed, yelping at every jump and
continually turning his head back in the direction whence he came.

I spoke to him and held out my hand, and was rewarded with a snap and
clash of teeth as he scuttled past. Still with head turned back, he went
on along the poop. Before I could apprehend his danger, Mr. Pike and
Miss West were after him. The mate was the nearer, and with a
magnificent leap gained the rail just in time to intercept Possum, who
was blindly g