signal for the return of the thoughts which had that day kept her company.  She cast a wrathful glance upon the unconscious young stranger just then passing, his perfect health and evident good humor under existing circumstances adding to her sense of injury and exasperation.  She grew ill, and determined to return at once to her apartments, but found her progress against the gale slower and more difficult than she had anticipated.  Dizzy and faint, she had just reached the stairs when a sudden lurch threw her violently to one side; she staggered helplessly and would have fallen, but at that instant a strong arm was thrown about her and she felt herself lifted bodily.  With a sigh of relief she turned her head towards her rescuer, supposing him one of the officers of the ship, only to discover, to her horror, that she was in the arms of the young Englishman.  His face was in the shadow, but the light falling on her own face revealed her features, and at that instant she heard a smothered exclamation,-

“Great heavens! can it be possible?”

Something in the tone startled her and she listened, hoping he would speak again.  He did not; but she noted the tenderness with which she was borne down the stairs and put in care of the stewardess.  Again she listened eagerly for his voice, but his words were brief and in an altered tone.

During the succeeding twenty-four hours in which Miss Carleton tossed in misery, one thought was uppermost in her mind, — to discover, if possible, the identity of the stranger who had come to her assistance.  The only information obtainable, however, was that he was evidently a gentleman of wealth, travelling alone, and apparently with no acquaintance on board with the exception of a young English officer.  She determined, at the earliest possible moment, to meet her mysterious rescuer and thank him for his kindness, but was unable to carry her plan into immediate execution.  Meantime, she learned that he had twice inquired for her.

On Sunday afternoon, their fourth day out, the storm had ceased and the weather was gradually clearing, and Miss Carleton, somewhat pale but quite herself again, came out for a promenade.  She found quite a number of passengers on deck, but for some time she looked in vain for her unknown friend.  At last, after several brisk turns, she saw him standing at a little distance, talking with the tall, dark-eyed man whom she had seen in conversation with Mr. Merrick.  The younger man’s cap was thrown back, revealing to Miss Carleton the fine profile, almost classical in its beauty, of the secretary at Fair Oaks.  For a moment her pulse throbbed wildly.  She felt a thrill of pleasure, not unmingled with a twinge of the resentment which she had been nursing for the last few days.  Then she walked calmly in his direction, saying to herself, —

“At least, I will thank him for his kindness.  I am no love-lorn peasant maid wearing my heart upon my sleeve!”