“Now, that is very nicely said, Mr. Morris, and you make me feel almost sorry, for having spoken to you as I did. Still, if you really want to find out something about me, I shall tell you some one whom you can ask, and who will doubtless answer you.” “Who is that? The captain?” “No. It is the same person to whom I should go if I wished to have information of you—the blonde young lady.” “Do you mean to say you know her?” asked the astonished young man. “I said nothing of the sort.” “Well, _do_ you know her?” “No, I do not.” “Do you know her name?” “No, I do not even know her name.” “Have you ever met her before you came on board this ship?” “Yes, I have.” “Well, if that isn’t the most astonishing thing I ever heard!” “I don’t see why it is. You say you thought you had met me before. As you are a man no doubt you have forgotten it. I say I think I have met that young lady before. As she is a woman I don’t think she will have forgotten. If you have any interest in the matter at all you might inquire.” “I shall do nothing of the sort.” “Well, of course, I said I thought you hadn’t very much interest. I only supposed the case.” “It is not that I have not the interest, but it is that I prefer to go to the person who can best answer my question if she chooses to do so. If she doesn’t choose to answer me, then I don’t choose to learn.” “Now, I like that ever so much,” said the young lady; “if you will get me another cup of coffee I shall be exceedingly obliged to you. My excuse is that these cups are very small, and the coffee is very good.” “I am sure you don’t need any excuse,” replied Morris, springing to his feet, “and I am only too happy to be your steward without the hope of the fee at the end of the voyage.” When he returned she said, “I think we had better stop the personal conversation into which we have drifted. It isn’t at all pleasant to me, and I don’t think it is very agreeable to you. Now, I intended this morning to give you a lesson on American literature. I feel that you need enlightening on the subject, and that you have neglected your opportunities, as most New York men do, and so I thought you would be glad of a lesson or two.” “I shall be very glad of it indeed. I don’t know what our opportunities are, but if most New York men are like me I imagine a great many of them are in the same fix. We have very little time for the study of the literature of any country.” “And perhaps very little inclination.” “Well, you know, Miss Earle, there is some excuse for a busy man. Don’t you think there is?” “I don’t think there is very much. Who in America is a busier man than Mr. Gladstone? Yet he reads nearly everything, and is familiar with almost any subject you can mention.”