Since the cardroom had been closed, Godfrey Harland’s time hung heavily upon his hands. He was not quite so bold and open as he had been in paying court to Grace Vansittart. He fancied her father and mother looked somewhat more coolly on him than they had done at first, and preferred whispering ‘soft nothings’ to her, when they found themselves alone. So he did not care to be shut up in the state cabin all the evening, where every look he gave, and word he uttered, was seen, heard, and commented upon. He was debarred from entering the berth of Vernon Blythe. An instinctive dislike existed between these two young men, and made itself apparent every time they met. So the only resource left to him seemed the second cabin, to which a young fellow of the name of Pemberton had warmly invited him. Harland knew he should meet Will Farrell there, but on the whole he thought it advisable he should meet and make friends with him before they parted company. But he little thought _how_ much more Farrell knew of him now than he had done when they last saw each other. Had he done so, he would have known he had better have entered a cockatrice’s den than the second cabin of the _Pandora_. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XII. A GAME OF DOMINOES. ‘Good-evening, Mr Harland. You are a stranger here,’ said Farrell, as he entered. ‘I thought you were going to slight your humble friend (meaning myself) throughout the voyage, but--’ ‘So you have met before,’ interrupted Mr Pemberton, who was of the party. ‘Oh, yes, we _have_ met before--many years ago,’ drawled Harland. ‘When we were clerks in the same office,’ put in Farrell. ‘Quite a boyish acquaintance,’ said the other, with an uneasy laugh, for Farrell’s manner had annoyed him. ‘Many people say that boyish acquaintances last the longest, and are the least soon forgotten,’ remarked Pemberton. ‘I don’t think Mr Harland and I shall forget each other in a hurry,’ laughed Farrell sarcastically. ‘The memory of Mr Horace--I mean of the office and all that occurred there, will follow me to my grave!’ ‘Come, come! Let us get to business!’ interposed Pemberton, seeing that the two men were at daggers-drawn with one another, though for what cause was a mystery to him. ‘Shall we make up a four at dominoes?’ ‘I am agreeable!’ returned Farrell. ‘And so am I,’ said Harland; ‘will the ladies join us?’ ‘I am afraid not,’ answered Farrell. ‘The deck is too wet for them; but I will ask, if you like.’ To his entreaties at the doors of the ladies’ berths he received nothing but negatives. Miss Douglas was already in bed, Miss Grant was afraid of the damp, and Mrs Medlicott was nursing a sick child. But a volunteer was soon found in the person of Bob Perry. ‘What do you play for?’ inquired Harland, when they had turned up the two highest and lowest, and Farrell and Pemberton had been elected partners. ‘What do you say to threepence each on the pips that stand out?’