“Oh, say it!” she exclaimed.  “It must have been very dull for him.  Is that it?”

“‘Father,’” said John with a grimace, “‘I can not tell a lie!’”

“Oh,” she said, laughing, “your hatchet isn’t very sharp.  I forgive you.  But really,” she added, “I know it has been.  You will laugh when I tell you the one particular resource we fell back upon.”

“Bid me to laugh, and I will laugh,” said John.

“Euchre!” she said, looking at him defiantly.  “Two-handed euchre!  We have played, as nearly as I can estimate, fifteen hundred games, in which he has held both bowers and the ace of trumps—­or something equally victorious—­I should say fourteen hundred times.  Oh!” she cried, with an expression of loathing, “may I never, never, never see a card again as long as I live!” John laughed without restraint, and after a petulant little moue she joined him.

“May I light up my pipe?” he said.  “I will get to leeward.”

“I shall not mind in the least,” she assented.

“By the way,” he asked, “does Mr. Carling smoke?”

“He used to,” she replied, “and while we were with the Nollises he smoked every day, but after we left them he fell back into the notion that it was bad for him.”

John filled and lighted his pipe in silence, and after a satisfactory puff or two said:  “Will Mr. Carling go in to dinner to-night?”

“Yes,” she replied, “I think he will if it is no rougher than at present.”

“It will probably be smoother,” said John.  “You must introduce me to him—­”

“Oh,” she interrupted, “of course, but it will hardly be necessary, as Alice and I have spoken so often to him of you—­”

“I was going to say,” John resumed, “that he may possibly let me take him off your hands a little, and after dinner will be the best time.  I think if I can get him into the smoking room that a cigar and—­and—­something hot with a bit of lemon peel and so forth later on may induce him to visit with me for a while, and pass the evening, or part of it.”

“You want to be an angel!” she exclaimed.  “Oh, I—­we—­shall be so obliged.  I know it’s just what he wants—­some man to take him in hand.”

“I’m in no hurry to be an angel,” said John, laughing, and, with a bow, “It’s better sometimes to be near the rose than to be the rose, and you are proposing to overpay me quite.  I shall enjoy doing what I proposed, if it be possible.”

Their talk then drifted off into various channels as topics suggested themselves until the ship’s bell sounded the luncheon hour.  Miss Blake went to join her sister and brother-in-law, but John had some bread and cheese and beer in the smoking room.  It appeared that the ladies had better success than in the morning, for he saw them later on in their steamer chairs with Mr. Carling, who was huddled in many wraps, with the flaps of his cap down over his