“We’ve struck!  Don’t leave me!  Let us die together!  Oh, why did I come? why did I come?” she wailed; while the other girl answered with a brave attempt at cheerfulness, as she put over Ethel’s head the only life-preserver she could find,—.

“I will!  I will!  Be calm, dear!  I guess there is no immediate danger.  Hold fast to this while I try to find something warm for you to put on.”

In a moment Jenny’s candle shone like a star of hope in the gloom, and by the time the three had got into wrappers and shawls, a peal of laughter from the Professor assured them that the danger could not be great.  Other sounds of merriment, as well as Mrs. Sibley’s voice scolding violently, was heard; and presently Mr. Homer came to tell them to be calm, for the stoppage was only to cool the engines, and the noise was occasioned by Joe Sibley’s tumbling out of his berth in a fit of nightmare caused by Welsh rarebits and poached eggs at eleven at night.

Much relieved, and a little ashamed now of their fright, every one subsided; but Ethel could not sleep, and clung to Jenny in an hysterical state till a soft voice began to sing “Abide with me” so sweetly that more than one agitated listener blessed the singer and fell asleep before the comforting hymn ended.

Ethel was up next day, and lay on the Professor’s bearskin rug on deck, looking pale and interesting, while the Sibleys sat by her talking over the exciting event of the night, to poor Joe’s great disgust.  Jenny crept to her usual corner. and sat with a book on her lap, quietly reviving in the fresh air till she was able to enjoy the pleasant chat of the Homers, who established themselves near by and took care of her, learning each day to love and respect the faithful little soul who kept her worries to herself, and looked brightly forward no matter how black the sky might be.

Only one other incident of the voyage need be told; but as that marked a change in the relations between the two girls it is worth recording.

As she prepared for bed late one evening, Mrs. Homer heard Jenny say in a tone never used before,—­

“My dear, I must say something to you or I shall not feel as if I were doing my duty.  I promised your mother that you should keep early hours, as you are not very strong and excitement is bad for you.  Now, you won’t come to bed at ten, as I ask you to every night, but stay up playing cards or sitting on deck till nearly every one but the Sibleys is gone.  Mrs. Homer waits for us, and is tired, and it is very rude to keep her up.  Will you please do as you ought, and not oblige me to say you must?”

Ethel was sleepy and cross, and answered pettishly, as she held out her foot to have her boot unbuttoned,—­for Jenny, anxious to please, refused no service asked of her,—­

“I shall do as I like, and you and Mrs. Homer needn’t trouble yourselves about me.  Mamma wished me to have a good time, and I shall!  There is no harm in staying up to enjoy the moonlight, and sing and tell stories.  Mrs. Sibley knows what is proper better than you do.”