leaving it ghastly white.

"Katherine, did you take me for a ghost?" asked the voice of Jervis
Ferrars.

"I think so," she said faintly, then sent the boat with a jerk
against the mooring post, where he tied it up for her.

"Did you really think we had gone down, or had you the cheerful
faith of Mrs. Jenkin?"

"I--I am afraid that I had no faith at all," she said with an
effort, and never guessed how complete was her self-betrayal.

He looked at her keenly, was apparently satisfied with what he saw,
then said cheerfully: "Will you row me up to Astor M'Kree's, or,
rather, permit me to row you? I want to go and assure him that the
_Mary_ is quite safe, and the soundest boat that ever sailed the
Bay. Shall we leave this luggage here, or row it up river for the
sake of having a load?"

"Rowing is quite sufficient exercise without having an unnecessary
load," replied Katherine, with a shake of her head, as she handed
him the bundles to place on the bank. She was trembling so that
she could hardly trust herself to speak, and was horribly afraid of
breaking down like a schoolgirl, and crying from sheer joyfulness.

When the bundles were all out, Jervis got in, took the oars, and
sent the boat's head round for up river again, then pulled steadily
for a few minutes without speaking.

A boat is an awkward place for a person afflicted with
self-consciousness. Katherine would have been thankful for some
shelter in which to hide her face just then, but, having none, she
rushed into nervous speech instead.

"Were you in danger? Was the _Mary_ wrecked?" she asked, miserably
conscious of the unsteadiness of her voice, yet feeling altogether
too nervous to remain silent.

"No," he said. "We have had a very easy and prosperous time,
though, unfortunately, we lost one of our boats on the way out--the
boat picked up by Oily Dave, which has made all the trouble. We
fell in with a lot of white porpoises; so the take has been a
valuable one, and the men came home very well pleased with the
venture: though Nick Jones felt his spirits rather dashed by
meeting his wife tricked out in mourning attire, and flying a
pennon of widowhood from the back of her bonnet."

Katherine laughed: she could imagine the tragic figure Mrs. Jones
must have looked, and the effect the sight would have on the
susceptible nerves of a Bay fisherman. Then she said hurriedly: "I
shall have great faith in Mrs. Jenkin's judgment after this,
although