She looked her thanks. “‘Fear not;’ sweet command!  I must, I will obey it.  Oh, how true it is that in keeping His commands there is great reward!  I am fully convinced that in the perfect keeping of them all perfect happiness would be found.”

A gentleman standing near turned suddenly round.  The tones of Elsie’s voice had reached him, though very few of the words.

“Ah, I thought I could not be mistaken in that voice,” he said delightedly, and offering his hand in cordial greeting.  “How are you, Miss Elsie? and you, Ned?  Really you are the last people I expected to meet here, though the very ones I should prefer above all others as compagnons de voyage.”

It was Philip Ross, Jr.

Neither of those addressed had ever enjoyed his society, and they were too sincere and true to reciprocate his expressions of gratification at the unexpected meeting.  They accepted his offered hand, made kind inquiries in regard to his health and that of the other members of the family, and asked if any of them were on board.

“No,” he said, “it’s merely a business trip that I take quite frequently.  But ma and the girls are in Paris now, went last June and expect to stay for another six months or longer.  You two aren’t here alone, eh?”

“Yes,” Edward said.

“You don’t say so!” cried Philip, elevating his eyebrows.  “Who’d ever have believed your careful mother—­not to speak of your grandfather—­would ever trust you so far from home by yourselves!”

“Mr. Ross,” Edward said, reddening, “I shall reach my majority a few months hence, and have been considered worthy of trust by both mother and grandpa, for years past.”

“Mamma did not show the slightest hesitation in committing me to his care,” added Elsie in her sweet, gentle tones.

“Glad to hear it! didn’t mean any insinuation that I didn’t consider you worthy of all trust, Ned; only that Mrs. Travilla and the old governor have always been so awfully strict and particular.”

Elsie, to whom the slang term was new, looked at the speaker with a slightly puzzled expression; but Edward, who fully understood it, drew himself up with offended dignity.

“Permit me to remark, Mr. Ross, that so disrespectful an allusion to my honored grandfather can never be other than extremely offensive to me, and to all his children and grandchildren.”

“Beg your pardon, Nod, and yours, Miss Elsie” (he would have liked to drop the Miss, but something in her manner prevented him), “I call my own father the governor—­behind his back you know—­and meant no offence in applying the term to Mr. Dinsmore.”

His apology was accepted, and the talk turned upon the various objects of interest within sight as they passed through the harbor.

When there was little more to see but sky and water, Elsie retired to her state-room, where she stayed until evening.  Then Edward came for her, and they passed an hour very enjoyably in promenading the deck or sitting side by side, looking out upon the moonlit waters.