r stop--never give one loop-hole for doubt to enter?" I
thought.

"But what in the world ails you--has Dunmore, the disconsolate, been
making love again? Has Captain Falconer declared himself too soon? and
do you hesitate, on account of Miss Moore? Don't let that consideration
influence you, I beg, for she is the greatest flirt in Savannah, the
truest to the vocation, and I like her for that, anyhow. Whatever a man
or woman has to do, let him or her do earnestly. That isn't exactly
Scripture, but near enough, don't you think so?" and she laughed
merrily.

"I have been on deck this morning," I commenced, "Miss Lamarque, and saw
Christian Garth, and--"

"He has been terrifying and electrifying you again with his tale of
horrors--there, it is all out. Why, he is as sensational as 'Jane Eyre,'
this new English novel I am just reading," drawing it from under her
pillow and holding it aloft as she spoke. "Currer Bell is not more
mysteriously awful, but Garth is not artistic. I detected his intention
by the inconsistency of his expression of face, which bore no part in
his narrative, and at once exposed him, you must remember--"

"Oh, yes--but this time--"

"Nonsense, Miriam Harz! the iceberg is gone, I know. Why, what a nervous
coward you are, to be sure, with all that assumed bravery! I am twice
as courageous, I do believe, despite appearances; I really begin to be
of opinion that it is safer to be at sea than on land--now what do you
think of that for a heterodoxy?--A second cup? why, of course, and a
third, if you want it; I am delighted you like it. These little Sevres
toys are but thimbles, but I always carry them about with me by sea and
land, and have for years; I feel as if there were luck in them, not one
of the original three has been broken--there--there!--just as I was
boasting, too!--never mind, such accidents _will_ occur; but your pretty
pongee dress is sadly stained with the coffee; besides, as _you_ dropped
the cup, it is _your_ luck, not mine; and I want an odd saucer, anyhow,
to feed Desiree out of; she sleeps in that willow basket you see in the
corner of the state-room, Miss Harz, and is lazy, like her mistress, of
mornings.--Desiree! Desiree! peep out, can't you, now you have your
long-desired Sevres saucer to lap milk from?--She won't touch delft,
Miss Harz. She is the most fastidious little creature!"

"Alas! alas!" and I groaned aloud.

"Not taking on about that silly cup, I hope--no; what can