he latter, and that
her ideas had been a little unformed then.

During the evening, Mrs. Hastings, with whom he was evidently a
favourite, happened to speak of Wyllard, and the efforts he was making
in the steerage, and Agatha asked a question.

"Does he often undertake this kind of thing?"

"No," said Mrs. Hastings with a smile. "Any way, not on so large a
scale. He's very far from setting up as a professional philanthropist,
my dear. I don't ever remember him offering to point out their duty to
other folks, and I don't think he goes about in search of an
opportunity of benefiting humanity. Still, as I suggested, when an
individual case thrusts itself beneath his nose, he generally--does
what he can."

"I've heard people say that the individual method only perpetuates the
trouble," said Agatha.

Her companion laughed. "That," she said, "is a subject I'm not well
posted on, but it seems to me that if other folks only adopted Harry
Wyllard's simple plan, there would be considerably less need for
organised charity."

CHAPTER IX.

THE FOG.

During the next two days the _Scarrowmania_ shouldered her way
westwards through the big, white-topped combers that rolled down upon
her under a lowering sky before a moderate gale. There were no
luxurious, steam-propelled hotels in the Canadian trade just then, and,
loaded deep with railway metal as she was, she slopped the green seas
in everywhere, and rolled her streaming sides out almost to her bilge.
She also shivered and rattled horribly when her single screw swung
clear and the tri-compound engines ran away.

Wyllard went down to the steerage every now and then, and Agatha, who
contrived to keep on her feet, not infrequently accompanied him. She
was glad of his society, for Mrs. Hastings was seldom in evidence, and
no efforts could get Miss Rawlinson out of her berth. The gale,
however, blew itself out at length, and the evening after it moderated
Agatha was sitting near the head of one fiddle-guarded table in the
saloon waiting for dinner, which the stewards had still some difficulty
in bringing in. Wyllard's place was next to hers, but he had not
appeared yet, nor, as it happened, had the skipper, who, however, did
not invariably dine with the passengers. One of the two doors which
led from the foot of the branching companion stairway into either side
of the saloon stood open, and presently she saw Wyllard standing just
outside it.

He beckoned to