eboard found it
difficult to keep their feet, and of a sudden a sharp, vicious squall
struck the boat, sending all uncertain passengers to their state-rooms.
Luncheon, served with difficulty, found a reasonable number at their
seats, but by dinner-time the "good sailors" might have selected any
locations they chose. Nature had declared a division, and the state-room
stewards found far greater demand upon their services than did those in
the dining-saloon. The majority of the passengers simply endured until
the safe haven of New York harbor might be reached, the minority
adjusted themselves to the conditions and made the most of them.

Merry and Huntington were among the fortunate minority.

"At last I have found something to struggle against!" she cried
enthusiastically during the storm, as they stood in a sheltered position
on deck watching the quivering steamer plow steadfastly through the
great waves.

"Still eager for a struggle!" Huntington exclaimed smiling,
understanding the spirit of the girl better than he cared to
acknowledge. "I don't like to think of you as struggling at all."

"I must," she said firmly. "Unless I do, I feel myself slipping
backwards."

"Of course," he admitted, "struggling means development, yet my wish for
you is freedom from anything which opposes. Is it selfishness on my
part, this desire to keep you as you are, or is it merely another of
those paradoxes of which life is made up?"

"Whatever it is," Merry answered simply, "I know that your wish is for
my good, for I know you are my friend."

She turned toward him as she spoke and looked full in his face with an
expression of confidence in her own which tested Huntington's
self-denial. But the years--the inexorable years--were there!

"It is you who have made me realize the necessity of struggling," she
continued. "It is through the companionship I have had these weeks with
you, and your friendship, that I have been able to crystallize ideas
which before were so uncontrolled that they made me restless and
discontented. What I heard you say to Mr. Hamlen, what I have seen in
your every-day philosophy has taught me to concentrate my efforts in one
grand struggle with myself."

"If you keep it there," Huntington answered, "I shall be content; it
would be no kindness to wish it otherwise. But one of these days, little
friend, some man will come along with a nature equal to your own, and in
the division of the struggle you will find