he fear of meeting her came back. It was fear as much
for her sake as for his own. He began to understand that the
embarrassment wouldn't be all on his side, nor the suffering. He picked
that up from the children, as he had picked up so many things, piecing
odds and ends of their speeches together. He saw them so rarely now that
he attached the greater value to the hints they threw out. He never
questioned them about her, but it was natural that they should take a
wider range of comment in proportion as they grew older. So he learned
that her dread of seeing him was as great as his own of seeing her. It
was astonishing that in all those seven years the hazards of New York
should not have thrown them together.

And now, at the moment when he might reasonably have felt safest, there
she was! That is, she was on the steamer. For seven or eight days they
were to be cooped up on the same boat. He could never go on deck or into
the saloon without having to pass her. Worse still, she could never go
outside her cabin door without the risk of being obliged to make him
some sign of recognition. And a sign of recognition between _them_--why,
the thing was absurd! Between them it must be all--or nothing; and it
couldn't be either.

He looked at the passenger-list again. Yes; that was her name: _Mrs.
Theodore Lacon_. It was not a name likely to be duplicated. In all human
probability it was she. As far as he could gather from the list, she was
traveling alone, without so much as the companionship of a maid. He,
too, was alone; but, fortunately, his name was inconspicuous: _Mr. C.
Walker_. It was just the sort of name to be overlooked. She might read
the list half a dozen times without really seeing it. If she were to
notice it, she might easily not reflect that the initial stood for
Chipman. It was conceivable that if she didn't actually see him she
might not know that he was on the ship at all.

The thought suggested a line of action. He was in his cabin at the time.
He could stay there. Looking through the port-hole, he saw that they had
not yet passed the Statue of Liberty. While in dock he had kept to his
room, in order to read letters and avoid the crowd that throngs the deck
of an outgoing steamer. There was every likelihood that she hadn't seen
him any more than he had seen her. If he kept himself hidden she might
never know! He could avoid the decks by day and take his exercise by
night. By night, too, he could creep into