'm all right now! Ti-rol-de-rol!" and Tom
actually tried to sing. "I say, Bessie, she never--she don't seem, you
know--?"

"What, Tom?"

"To be sorry I was going, you know?"

"Elsie? She has been so engrossed with her brother's journey----"

"Yes, of course," Tom broke in; "oh, it's not to be expected--nobody
that wasn't a flounder ever would have asked! Ri-tol-de-rol! I'm a
little hoarse this morning, but it's no matter--I only want to show I'm
not put about, you know--that is, not much."

He moved uneasily about the chamber, upset light chairs and committed
disasters generally; but all the while looked resolute as possible, and
kept up his attempt at a song in a mournful quaver.

"Well, I can't stay," he said; "I mustn't lose the train! Now, don't
feel uncomfortable, Bessie; Lord bless you, I shall soon be all
right--sea-sickness is good for my disease, you know," and Tom tried to
laugh, but it was a dismal failure compared with his former
light-heartedness.

Elizabeth saw that he was restless to get once more into Elsie's
presence, painful as the interview must be to him, so she smoothed his
hair, straightened his necktie and accompanied him downstairs.

"Oh, you dear, delightful Tom Fuller!" cried Mrs. Harrington, pleased to
see any man arrive, for Elsie had carried off both her victims into the
window-seat, and was making them dizzy with her smiles and brilliant
nonsense.

"I--I'm delighted to see you," cried Tom, frantically, thrusting his hat
in her face, in a wild delusion that he was offering his hand, for he
was so upset by the sight of Elsie that he felt as if rapidly going up
in an unmanageable balloon.

"I'll just say good-bye at the same time," pursued Tom; "for I'm rather
in a hurry, thank you."

"Why, you're not going away directly!" cried the widow. "Oh, you must
stay and entertain me. Elsie has left me quite desolate."

"Thank you; it's of no importance; I'm not quite on my sea legs yet,"
gasped Tom, growing so dizzy that he was possessed of a mad idea he was
already on shipboard.

"Why, you look quite white and ill," said the widow.

"Yes; oh, not any, thank you," cried Tom, stepping on the widow's dress,
dancing off it and dealing Elizabeth a blow with his hat.

Mrs. Mellen felt herself grow sick at heart; she glanced at Elsie; the
girl was laughing gaily, and chatting away with young Hawkins,
regardless of Tom's presence. North stood by, looking at her with his
deep, earnest eyes