ul domestic influence subtly making itself felt from the
coasts of his native island, or some fine despair of equalling the
imagined grandeur of Lottie's social state in Tuskingum by anything he
could show her in England, it was certain that he was ending with Lottie
then and there. At the same time he was carefully defining himself from
the Rasmiths, with whom he must land. He had his state-room things put
at an appreciable distance, where he did not escape a final stab from
Lottie.

"Oh, do give me a rose out of that," she entreated, in travestied
imploring, as he stood looking at a withered bouquet which the steward
had brought up with his rugs.

"I'm takin' it home," he explained, coldly.

"And I want to take a rose back to New York. I want to give it to a
friend of mine there."

Mr. Pogis hesitated. Then he asked, "A man?" "Well, rather!" said
Lottie.

He answered nothing, but looked definitively down at the flowers in his
hand.

"Oh, I say!" Lottie exulted.

Boyne remained fixed in fealty to the Rasmiths, with whom Breckon was
also talking as Mrs. Kenton came up with the judge. She explained how
sorry her daughter Ellen was at not being able to say goodbye; she was
still not at all well; and the ladies received her excuses with polite
patience. Mrs. Rasmith said she did not know what they should do without
Boyne, and Miss Rasmith put her arm across his shoulders and pulled him
up to her, and implored, "Oh, give him to me, Mrs. Kenton!"

Boyne stole an ashamed look at his mother, and his father said, with
an unbending to Breckon which must have been the effect of severe
expostulation from Mrs. Kenton, "I suppose you and the ladies will go to
Paris together."

"Why, no," Breckon said, and he added, with mounting confusion, "I--I
had arranged to keep on to Rotterdam. I was going to mention it."

"Keep on to Rotterdam!" Mrs. Rasmith's eyes expressed the greatest
astonishment.

"Why, of course, mother!" said her daughter. "Don't you know? Boyne told
us."

Boyne, after their parting, seized the first chance of assuring his
mother that he had not told Miss Rasmith that, for he had not known it,
and he went so far in her condemnation to wonder how she could say such
a thing. His mother said it was not very nice, and then suggested that
perhaps she had heard it from some one else, and thought it was he.
She acquitted him of complicity with Miss Rasmith in forbearing to
contradict her; and it seemed to her