"Now, Miss Earle, are you good at reading out loud?"

"No, I am not."

"Why, how decisively you say that. I couldn't answer like that, because I don't know whether I am or not. I have never tried any of it. But if you will allow me, I will read that book out to you. I should like to have the good points indicated to me, and also the defects."

"There are not likely to be many defects," said the young lady. "Mr.

James is a very correct writer. But I do not care either to read aloud or have a book read to me. Besides, we disturb the conversation or the reading of any one else who happens to sit near us. I prefer to enjoy a book by reading it myself."

"Ah, I see you are resolved cruelly to shut me out of all partic.i.p.ation in your enjoyment."

"Oh, not at all. I shall be very happy to discuss the book with you afterwards. You should read it for yourself. Then, when you have done so, we might have a talk on its merits or demerits, if you think, after you have read it, that it has any."

"Any what? merits or demerits?"

"Well, any either."

"No; I will tell you a better plan than that. I am not going to waste my time reading it."

"Waste, indeed!"

"Certainly waste. Not when I have a much better plan of finding out what is in the book. I am going to get you to tell me the story after you have read it."

"Oh, indeed, and suppose I refuse?"

"Will you?"

"Well, I don't know. I only said suppose."

"Then I shall spend the rest of the voyage trying to persuade you."

"I am not very easily persuaded, Mr. Morris."

"I believe that," said the young man. "I presume I may sit beside you while you are reading your book?"

"You certainly may, if you wish to. The deck is not mine, only that portion of it, I suppose, which I occupy with the steamer chair. I have no authority over any of the rest."

"Now, is that a refusal or an acceptance?"

"It is which ever you choose to think."

"Well, if it is a refusal, it is probably softening down the 'No,' but if it is an acceptance it is rather an ungracious one, it seems to me."

"Well, then, I shall be frank with you. I am very much interested in this book. I should a great deal rather read it than talk to you."

"Oh, thank you, Miss Earle. There can be no possible doubt about your meaning now."

"Well, I am glad of that, Mr. Morris. I am always pleased to think that I can speak in such a way as not to be misunderstood."

"I don't see any possible way of misunderstanding that. I wish I did."

"And then, after lunch," said the young lady, "I think I shall finish the book before that time;--if you care to sit beside me or to walk the deck with me, I shall be very glad to tell you the story."

"Now, that is perfectly delightful," cried the young man. "You throw a person down into the depths, so that he will appreciate all the more being brought up into the light again."

"Oh, not at all. I have no such dramatic ideas in speaking frankly with you. I merely mean that this forenoon I wish to have to myself, because I am interested in my book. At the end of the forenoon I shall probably be tired of my book and will prefer a talk with you. I don't see why you should think it odd that a person should say exactly what a person means."

"And then I suppose in the evening you will be tired of talking with me, and will want to take up your book again."

"Possibly."

"And if you are, you won't hesitate a moment about saying so?"

"Certainly not."

"Well, you are a decidedly frank young lady, Miss Earle; and, after all, I don't know but what I like that sort of thing best. I think if all the world were honest we would all have a better time of it here."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I do."

"You believe in honesty, then?"

"Why, certainly. Have you seen anything in my conduct or bearing that would induce you to think that I did not believe in honesty?"

"No, I can't say I have. Still, honesty is such a rare quality that a person naturally is surprised when one comes unexpectedly upon it."

George Morris found the forenoon rather tedious and lonesome. He sat in the smoking room, and once or twice he ventured near where Miss Earle sat engrossed in her book, in the hope that the volume might have been put aside for the time, and that he would have some excuse for sitting down and talking with her. Once as he pa.s.sed she looked up with a bright smile and nodded to him.

"Nearly through?" he asked dolefully.

"Of 'The Siege of London'?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, I am through that long ago, and have begun another story."

"Now, that is not according to contract," claimed Morris. "The contract was that when you got through with 'The Siege of London' you were to let me talk with you, and that you were to tell me the story."

"That was not my interpretation of it. Our bargain, as I understood it, was that I was to have this forenoon to myself, and that I was to use the forenoon for reading. I believe my engagement with you began in the afternoon."

"I wish it did," said the young man, with a wistful look.

"You wish what?" she said, glancing up at him sharply.

He blushed as he bent over towards her and whispered, "That our engagement, Miss Katherine, began in the afternoon."

The colour mounted rapidly into her cheeks, and for a moment George Morris thought he had gone too far. It seemed as if a sharp reply was ready on her lips; but, as on another occasion, she checked it and said nothing. Then she opened her book and began to read. He waited for a moment and said--