Transatlantic ship's company is never very interesting. The trip is too short to make it possible for the pleasant people to get to know one another: only the bores and thrusters have time to make their presence felt. On this occasion the saloon appeared to be divided fairly evenly between music-hall artistes and commercial travellers of Semitic origin; so Philip, wrapped up in a rug, addressed himself to the task of overtaking some of the arrears of sleep due to him after the recently completed Joy-Week. Next morning, experiencing a desire for society, Philip descended a deck upon a visit to the second class, feeling tolerably certain that here, at least, he would find a friend. He was right. Miss Jennings was sitting by herself under the lee of the boiler casing, perusing a novel. "Yes," she said, after an exchange of greetings, "I dare say you are a bit surprised to see me. I'm a trifle that way myself. I only settled to do it a week ago." "I did not even know you had left the Britannia Company," said Philip, sitting down. "Tell me about it." "Well," explained Miss Jennings, "there isn't much to tell. I got tired of Oxford Street. It didn't seem to be leading to much, and I wasn't getting any younger; and just about six months ago I had had a letter from a girl friend of mine who had settled in New York, saying that a good stenographer could do twice as well there as in London. So I decided to go--if only for a bit of a change." "What about your mother and sister?" asked Philip. "Oh, you haven't heard. Poor Mother died over a year ago, when you were away at Coventry. I'm just out of black for her now. May is married. I have been living with her and Tom for some time back. I didn't like it much. Makes you feel inferior-like, living in a house belonging to a married sister that's plainer than yourself. That's all about me. I hope you are very well, Mr. Meldrum. You are out on the Company's business, I suppose?" "Yes," said Philip. He explained the nature of his trip. "They were saying at Oxford Street," pursued Miss Jennings, with the air of one who is anxious to avoid all appearance of asking for information, "that you were going to be made a partner." "It was talked about," said Philip, "but nothing at all came of it. They wanted me to risk rather more capital in the business than I happen to possess." "Don't you worry about capital, Mr. Meldrum," said Miss Jennings. "It's your brains they're after. Bob Br--a gentleman I know told me that he had heard from some one behind the scenes that they don't mean to let you go at any price. They can't afford to have your inventions taken up by other people. It was just a try-on, telling you you must put a lot of money into the business. Next time they mention the matter, you name your terms and _stick_ to them!" Philip thanked her.