I thought it an odd fate that the "elderly gent" with his matrimonially-inclined companion should be seated at the same table with myself and Mr. Wesson, but odd things happen continually on shipboard and this voyage was to prove the rule. There were just eight of us assigned to that table, a married couple and one man travelling singly, besides those mentioned. Before we separated I took a printed list of the passengers, such as had been generally distributed, bearing on the reverse side a map of the Windward Islands, and requested those present to mark their names, that I might know them better. Wesson and I marked ours first. The "elderly gent" put his cross against two names reading Matthew Howes and Miss Nellie Howes, the married couple endorsed the names of Mr. and Mrs. H.G. Stone and the single passenger claimed the title of Robert Edgerly. The seats had been assigned by the steward with written cards on each plate, and Mr. Edgerly, who sat at my left, took up that of Miss Carney. "We have still another messmate, who has not made her appearance," he said, to the table in general. "Miss M. Carney." "The lady is not feeling well and will not appear to-night," I said. "I believe she occupies the stateroom with me," said Miss Howes, to my surprise. "She is evidently not used to the sea, for she was taken ill before the steamer left the dock." "Miss Carney is my cousin," I explained, forced into it by the inquiring eyes of Mr. Howes, who evidently connected us in some way. "She was not very well before we started, is in fact taking the journey mainly for her health. I hope she will feel able to be out to-morrow." With the freedom that sometimes prevails in parties thrown together at a steamer table the conversation then became general, and before we rose I knew that Mr. Edgerly claimed Albany as his home and Mr. and Mrs. Stone, Montpelier, Vt.; while Mr. and Miss Howes said they resided in Binghamton. It helps very much in remembering people to get a city or town tacked on to their names, and I wrote the locations on my passenger list. It was a dull evening, in spite of the fact that I passed it in the smoking room, where considerable cheap wit was bandied about and my fellow-passengers got acquainted with each other and with me. The push-button was kept busy until the steward in charge of that department gave signs of exhaustion. I drank very little, though I paid for several rounds, after the fashion of most Americans, who think such proceedings necessary to preserve their self-respect. At last, when there was nothing else to do, I went to my cabin and to bed.