‘Who _dares_ to say that he cheats at play?’ exclaimed Grace Vansittart, firing up in defence of her absent lover. ‘It’s a lie, father. I am sure of it. Mr Harland would be incapable of such a meanness.’ ‘Well, I hope so, my dear, but I must know a little more about it before I decide. Besides, that’s not all. He had a violent quarrel with some low fellow in the second cabin the other night, and part of their conversation was overheard, and has got about the ship, and it isn’t nice--not nice at all. So, you see, until I can be satisfied of the falseness of such rumours, I can’t do less than warn you, my dear, not to show anything more than civility to Mr Harland. If I find on further inquiry that they are true, I shall give him his return passage-money, and his dismissal, as soon as ever we touch land, for I won’t have such a man at Tabbakooloo.’ Grace was weeping silently by this time beneath her veil. She was a proud, self-willed girl, and she would let her father see neither her tears nor her determination to have her own way. But she foresaw the trouble and opposition that would ensue, and felt much injured in consequence. ‘You don’t answer me,’ continued Mr Vansittart, perceiving she was sulky, ‘and I daresay you feel a bit disappointed; but I mean what I say, and I intend you shall obey me. And don’t forget I shall be keeping a sharp eye on you, my girl, so it’s no use trying to deceive me. And now go down to your lunch, and don’t let’s hear any more of the subject.’ Grace dried her tears, and obeyed her father’s behest, but she felt obstinately rebellious the while. Matters had gone much further between her and Godfrey Harland than her parents had any idea of, but they would never learn the truth now from her. She was one of those women--very few and far between--who have the power to keep their own secrets. The day came, and not so long after, when Grace Vansittart was forced to acknowledge the justice of her father’s commands, but she never gave him the satisfaction of hearing so. The day dawned also when the weeks she spent on board the _Pandora_ were things of the past, and a new life had opened before her--a life in which ‘Charlie Monro’ took a part, and Mrs Vansittart’s prayers for her daughter’s future were fulfilled. But had Charlie been fully acquainted with all that had transpired during the voyage to New Zealand, would Grace Vansittart ever have been transformed into Mrs Monro? Who can tell? If all our inmost secrets were laid bare, would any one of us, male or female, occupy the positions which we hold in the estimation of the world? The most exciting part of transmigration to another sphere, must surely be the fact that in that ærial ‘Palace of Truth’ we are promised the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XV. THE LETTER.