There was no particular reason why Mary Randall’s being invited should have been a point so much objected to, as she appeared a quiet, inoffensive girl, by Ruth and Grace, only that she was not intimate with either, and seemed in their apprehension to spoil the ease and interfere with the excessive intimacy and familiarity of the other two. Harry Meredith, too, was put out with the prospect of “another woman to be civil to;” but, as Ruth said, “there was no help for it. Papa makes a point of it, as he wants to pay the Randalls some attention, and so does it by making me civil to Mary. It’s not pleasant, Grace, but it is better than not going at all.” “Oh, to be sure,” replied Grace, thinking in her heart that old Mr. Meredith was a very disagreeable old gentleman; but there being no help for that either, the matter was settled. “I dare say Mrs. Castleton will take her a good deal off our hands,” said Ruth. “What a charming woman she is,” replied Grace. “Mrs. Castleton? Oh, she has always been my _beau ideal_,” answered Ruth. “She’s lovely both in mind and person. Her manners are so graceful, and her tones so sweet—there’s altogether a charm and witchery about her that’s indescribable.” “I hope your _beau ideal_ will be a little more punctual another time, Ruth,” said young Meredith smiling. “Faith! I thought we had lost our passage.” “Well, but we did not,” replied his sister. “No,” said Meredith. “More by luck though than good management.” “What a fuss you men always make about punctuality,” returned Ruth. “And well we may,” replied her brother. “It’s the soul of business—and traveling, too, you’ll find. So pray have your carpet-bag ready in the morning—or—” “Now don’t begin with scolding, Harry, because Mrs. Castleton happened to be five minutes out of the way.” “Well, well,” replied Meredith, “that’s enough. Now go and choose your state-rooms. One of you will have to share one with a stranger.” The girls looked at each other; Ruth and Grace wanting to be together, and yet not liking to propose it to Mary Randall, who said at once, with the almost of good nature, “Oh, I’ll take that one. It’s the same thing to me, you know,” in a manner that quite warmed their hearts to her. Mrs. Castleton had the first choice, of course, and so all the arrangements were made accordingly. But just when they were retiring for the night, Mrs. Castleton came to Ruth and Grace’s state-room, with a servant following her, bag in hand, saying in her usual sweet manner and soft tones, “Girls, you’ll have to change with me. There’s such a walking overhead that I can’t sleep below.” And so bonnets and shawls and bags were hastily gathered up, and all tumbled in confusion in the condemned state-room below. “She might have thought of that before,” said Ruth with some little vexation. “It was her own choice.” “Yes, I think so,” replied Grace. “She could sleep here I suppose as well as we.”