her even teeth in the sun.

They were standing at the end of the promenade deck, which extended
twenty feet abaft the smoking-room, and took the whole beam; above
the latter, as in most modern ships, there was the boat deck, to the
after-part of which passengers had access. Standing below, it was easy
to see and talk with any one who looked over the upper rail.

Ida threw her head back and looked up as she laughed, and Margaret
laughed good-naturedly with her, thinking how pretty she was. But
suddenly the child's expression changed, her face grew grave, and her
eyes fixed themselves intently on some point above. Margaret looked in
the same direction, and saw that Mr. Van Torp was standing alone up
there, leaning against the railing and evidently not seeing her, for
he gazed fixedly into the distance; and as he stood there, his lips
moved as if he were talking to himself.

Margaret gave a little start of surprise when she saw him, but the
child watched him steadily, and a look of fear stole over her face.
Suddenly she grasped Margaret's arm.

'Come away! Come away!' she cried in a low tone of terror.

CHAPTER IV

Margaret was sorry to say good-bye to Miss More and little Ida when
the voyage was over, three days later. She was instinctively fond of
children, as all healthy women are, and she saw very few of them in
her wandering life. It is true that she did not understand them very
well, for she had been an only child, brought up much alone, and
children's ways are only to be learnt and understood by experience,
since all children are experimentalists in life, and what often seems
to us foolishness in them is practical wisdom of the explorative kind.

When Ida had pulled Margaret away from the railing after watching Mr.
Van Torp while he was talking to himself, the singer had thought
very little of it; and Ida never mentioned it afterwards. As for the
millionaire, he was hardly seen again, and he made no attempt to
persuade Margaret to take another walk with him on deck.

'Perhaps you would like to see my place,' he said, as he bade her
good-bye on the tender at Liverpool. 'It used to be called Oxley
Paddox, but I didn't like that, so I changed the name to Torp Towers.
I'm Mr. Van Torp of Torp Towers. Sounds well, don't it?'

'Yes,' Margaret answered, biting her lip, for she wanted to laugh. 'It
has a very lordly sound. If you bought a moor and a river in Scotland,
you might call yourself the M'Torp of