“We shall be a few days in London, and in Paris only long enough for some clothes,” she replied.

“The trousseau,” thought Carlton.  “Weeks is what she should have said.”

The three sat together at the captain’s table, and as the sea continued rough, saw little of either the captain or his other guests, and were thrown much upon the society of each other.  They had innumerable friends and interests in common; and Mrs. Downs, who had been everywhere, and for long seasons at a time, proved as alive as her niece, and Carlton conceived a great liking for her.  She seemed to be just and kindly minded, and, owing to her age, to combine the wider judgment of a man with the sympathetic interest of a woman.  Sometimes they sat together in a row and read, and gossiped over what they read, or struggled up the deck as it rose and fell and buffeted with the wind; and later they gathered in a corner of the saloon and ate late suppers of Carlton’s devising, or drank tea in the captain’s cabin, which he had thrown open to them.  They had started knowing much about one another, and this and the necessary proximity of the ship hastened their acquaintance.

The sea grew calmer the third day out, and the sun came forth and showed the decks as clean as bread-boards.  Miss Morris and Carlton seated themselves on the huge iron riding-bits in the bow, and with their elbows on the rail looked down at the whirlin-blue water, and rejoiced silently in the steady rush of the great vessel, and in the uncertain warmth of the March sun.  Carlton was sitting to leeward of Miss Morris, with a pipe between his teeth.  He was warm, and at peace with the world.  He had found his new acquaintance more than entertaining.  She was even friendly, and treated him as though he were much her junior, as is the habit of young women lately married or who are about to be married.  Carlton did not resent it; on the contrary, it made him more at his ease with her, and as she herself chose to treat him as a youth, he permitted himself to be as foolish as he pleased.

“I don’t know why it is,” he complained, peering over the rail, “but whenever I look over the side to watch the waves a man in a greasy cap always sticks his head out of a hole below me and scatters a barrelful of ashes or potato peelings all over the ocean.  It spoils the effect for one.  Next time he does it I am going to knock out the ashes of my pipe on the back of his neck.”  Miss Morris did not consider this worthy of comment, and there was a long lazy pause.

“You haven’t told us where you go after London,” she said; and then, without waiting for him to reply, she asked, “Is it your professional or your social side that you are treating to a trip this time?”

“Who told you that?” asked Carlton, smiling.

“Oh, I don’t know.  Some man.  He said you were a Jekyll and Hyde.  Which is Jekyll?  You see, I only know your professional side.”