ing faces around
her. "It is not likely to break out in us, girls, eh! Really, Clara,"
she said, in a lower tone, "that seems to me like wasted morality.
Women of our class are in no more danger of temptation to commit great
crimes than they are of finding tigers in their drawing-rooms. Pauline
Felix was born vicious. No woman could fall as she did, who was not
rotten to the core."

A sudden shrill laugh burst from the French woman, who had been looking
at Mrs. Waldeaux with insolent, bold eyes. But as she laughed, her
head fell forward and she swung from side to side.

"It is nothing," she cried, "I am only a little faint. I must go
below."

The ship was now crossing short, choppy waves. The passengers
scattered rapidly. George took his mother to her stateroom, and there
she stayed until land was sighted on the Irish coast. Clara and her
companions also were forced to keep to their berths.

During the speechless misery of the first days Mrs. Waldeaux was
conscious that George was hanging over her, tender as a mother with a
baby. She commanded him to stay on deck, for each day she saw that he,
too, grew more haggard. "Let me fight it out alone," she would beg of
him. "My worst trouble is that I cannot take care of you."

He obeyed her at last, and would come down but once during the day, and
then for only a few hurried minutes. His mother was alarmed at the
ghastliness of his face and the expression of anxious wretchedness new
to it. "His eye avoids mine craftily, like that of an insane man," she
told herself, and when the doctor came, she asked him whether
sea-sickness affected the brain.

On the last day of the voyage the breeze was from land, and with the
first breath of it Frances found her vigor suddenly return. She rose
and dressed herself. George had not been near her that day. "He must
be very ill," she thought, and hurried out. "Is Mr. Waldeaux in his
stateroom?" she asked the steward.

"No, madam. He is on deck. All the passengers are on deck," the man
added, smiling. "Land is in sight."

Land! And George had not come to tell her! He must be desperately ill!

She groped up the steps, holding by the brass rail. "I will give him a
fine surprise!" she said to herself. "I can take care of him, now.
To-night we shall be on shore and this misery all over. And then the
great joy will begin!"

She came out on deck. The sunshine and cold pure wind met her. She
looked along the c