“If I am not mistaken, my dear lady,” said Mr. Thornton, who had overheard the conversation, “you will have little time or inclination for looking up acquaintances on this trip.”

“May I ask why?” Mrs. Mainwaring demanded.

“I think,” he replied, maliciously, “that you and Isabel will be too much occupied in cultivating the acquaintance of mal de mer to care for your best friends.”

“How’s that, Thornton?  Think it will be rough?” inquired Ralph Mainwaring.

“The captain tells me the wind is freshening every moment, and we’ll have a decidedly choppy sea before night.  I’m thinking we’ll have a nasty trip.”

“In that case, perhaps mamma and I will not be the only victims,” said Isabel Mainwaring.

“I fear not,” responded Mr. Thornton.  “Were it not or my inherent chivalry, I should turn back; but I cannot leave you ladies to meet your fate alone.”

Amid the general confusion of leave-taking, Mr. Whitney turned towards Miss Carleton, saying in a low tone, as he took her hand,-

“I have received cordial invitations both from yourself and Mr. Thornton to visit your home, and I feel assured of a welcome should I accept your courtesy; but, pardon me, Miss Carleton, if, after so brief an acquaintance as ours, I inquire whether I might ever hope for a welcome from you other than that of a friend?”

The beautiful brown eyes met his own frankly, but all the laughter and sunshine had gone out of them.  They were serious and had almost a look of pain.

“I am sorry, Mr. Whitney,” she said, simply; “but it would be very unjust if I led you to hope that I could ever regard you other than as an esteemed friend.”

“Pardon me for troubling you,” he said, gently.  “Believe me always your friend, and forget that I ever asked for more than friendship,” and, releasing her hand, he passed on to the others.

The final adieus were spoken; Ralph Mainwaring and his son, accompanied by the attorney, went ashore; and Miss Carleton, not caring just then to meet the curious glances of her companions, walked slowly towards the forward part of the deck.  She had gone but a few steps, however, when she caught sight of the familiar figure of Mr. Merrick at a little distance, in conversation with a tall, slender man, with dark, piercing eyes.  He was speaking rapidly in low tones, but his usually non-committal face wore an expression of unmistakable satisfaction.  Suddenly he turned and walked swiftly in Miss Carleton’s direction.  Their eyes met, and in response to her glance of recognition he quickly crossed to where she was standing.

“I have but a few seconds left, Miss Carleton,” he said, a genial smile lighting up his face; “but I am glad of an opportunity to wish you a pleasant trip.  Are you a good sailor?”

“I hardly know,” she answered.  “I have had so little experience on the sea.  Why?  Shall we have a stormy passage, do you think?”