was as much in a wild clutch for support as in a purpose to save
her that he caught her in his arms and braced himself against the ship's
slant. "Where are you going? What are you trying to do?" he shouted.

"I wanted to go down-stairs," she protested, clinging to him.

"You were nearer going overboard," he retorted. "You shouldn't have
tried." He had not fully formulated his reproach when the ship righted
herself with a counter-roll and plunge, and they were swung staggering
back together against the bulkhead. The door of the gangway was within
reach, and Breckon laid hold of the rail beside it and put the girl
within. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No, no; I'm not hurt," she panted, sinking on the cushioned benching
where usually rows of semi-sea-sick people were lying.

"I thought you might have been bruised against the bulkhead," he said.
"Are you sure you're not hurt that I can't get you anything? From the
steward, I mean?"

"Only help me down-stairs," she answered. "I'm perfectly well," and
Breckon was so willing on these terms to close the incident that he was
not aware of the bruise on his own arm, which afterwards declared itself
in several primitive colors. "Don't tell them," she added. "I want to
come up again."

"Why, certainly not," he consented; but Boyne Kenton, who had been an
involuntary witness of the fact from a point on the forward promenade,
where he had stationed himself to study the habits of the stormy petrel
at a moment so favorable to the acquaintance of the petrel (having
left a seasick bed for the purpose), was of another mind. He had been
alarmed, and, as it appeared in the private interview which he demanded
of his mother, he had been scandalized.

"It is bad enough the way Lottie is always going on with fellows. And
now, if Ellen is going to begin!"

"But, Boyne, child," Mrs. Kenton argued, in an equilibrium between the
wish to laugh at her son and the wish to box his ears, "how could she
help his catching her if he was to save her from pitching overboard?"

"That's just it! He will always think that she did it just so he would
have to catch her."

"I don't believe any one would think that of Ellen," said Mrs. Kenton,
gravely.

"Momma! You don't know what these Eastern fellows are. There are so few
of them that they're used to having girls throw themselves at them, and
they will think anything, ministers and all. You ought to talk to Ellen,
and caution her. Of course, she isn't l