'About those mines. Miss Longworth's father being a member of the London Syndicate, suppose he asks what our views in relation to the matter are: would we be justified in telling him anything?' 'He won't ask me as I don't know him; he may ask you, and if he does, then you will have to decide the question for yourself.' 'Would you say anything about it if you were in my place?' 'Oh, I don't know. If we were certain it was all right--if you are sure he _is_ a member of the syndicate, and he happens to ask you about it, I scarcely see how you can avoid telling him.' 'It would be embarrassing; so I hope he won't ask me. We should not speak of it until we give in our reports. He knows, however, that you are the accountant who has that part of the business in charge.' 'Oh, then you have been talking with him?' 'Just a moment or two, after his daughter introduced me.' 'What did you say his name was?' 'John Longworth, I believe. I am sure about the Longworth, but not about the John.' 'Oh, old John Longworth in the City! Certainly; I know all about him. I never saw him before, but I think we are quite safe in telling him anything he wants to know, if he asks.' 'Breakfast, gentlemen,' said the steward, putting his head in at the door. After breakfast Edith Longworth and her cousin walked the deck together. Young Longworth, although in better humour than he had been the night before, was still rather short in his replies, and irritating in his questions. 'Aren't you tired of this eternal parade up and down?' he asked his cousin. 'It seems to me like a treadmill--as if a person had to work for his board and lodging.' 'Let us sit down then,' she replied; 'although I think a walk before lunch or dinner increases the attractiveness of those meals wonderfully.' 'I never feel the need of working up an appetite,' he answered pettishly. 'Well, as I said before, let us sit down;' and the girl, having found her chair, lifted the rug that lay upon it, and took her place. The young man, after standing for a moment looking at her through his glistening monocle, finally sat down beside her. 'The beastly nuisance of living on board ship,' he said, 'is that you can't play billiards.' 'I am sure you play enough at cards to satisfy you during the few days we are at sea,' she answered. 'Oh, cards! I soon tire of them.' 'You tire very quickly of everything.' 'I certainly get tired of lounging about the deck, either walking or sitting.' 'Then, pray don't let me keep you.' 'You want me to go so you may walk with your newly-found friend, that miner fellow?' 'That miner fellow is talking with my father just now. Still, if you would like to know, I have no hesitation in telling you I would much prefer his company to yours if you continue in your present mood.' 'Yes, or in any mood.' 'I did not say that; but if it will comfort you to have me say it, I shall be glad to oblige you.'