“No? Then let me tell you that I have every right to ask it. I assure you that I have thought over the matter deeply before I spoke. It seemed to me there was one chance in a thousand—only one chance in a thousand, remember—that you were acting honestly, and on that one chance I took the liberty of speaking to you. The right I have to ask such a question is this—Mr. George Morris has been engaged to me for several years.” “Engaged to _you_?” “Yes. If you don’t believe it, ask him.” “It is the very last question in the world I would ask anybody.” “Well, then, you will have to take my word for it. I hope you are not very shocked, Miss Earle, to hear what I have had to tell you.” “Shocked? Oh dear, no. Why should I be? It is really a matter of no interest to me, I assure you.” “Well, I am very glad to hear you say so. I did not know but you might have become more interested in Mr. Morris than you would care to own. I think myself that he is quite a fascinating young gentleman; but I thought it only just to you that you should know exactly how matters stood.” “I am sure I am very much obliged to you.” This much of the conversation Miss Earle had thought over in her own room that morning. “Did it make a difference to her or not?” that was the question she was asking herself. The information had certainly affected her opinion of Mr. Morris, and she smiled to herself rather bitterly as she thought of his claiming to be so exceedingly truthful. Miss Earle did not, however, go up on deck until the breakfast gong had rung. “Good morning,” said Morris, as he took his place at the little table. “I was like the boy on the burning deck this morning, when all but he had fled. I was very much disappointed that you did not come up, and have your usual cup of coffee.” “I am sorry to hear that,” said Miss Earle; “if I had known I was disappointing anybody I should have been here.” “Miss Katherine,” he said, “you are a humbug. You knew very well that I would be disappointed if you did not come.” The young lady looked up at him, and for a moment she thought of telling him that her name was Miss Earle, but for some reason she did not do so. “I want you to promise now,” he continued, “that to-morrow morning you will be on deck as usual.” “Has it become a usual thing, then?” “Well, that’s what I am trying to make it,” he answered. “Will you promise?” “Yes, I promise.” “Very well, then, I look on that as settled. Now, about to-day. What are you going to do with yourself after breakfast?” “Oh, the usual thing, I suppose. I shall sit in my steamer chair and read an interesting book.” “And what is the interesting book for to-day?” “It is a little volume by Henry James, entitled _The Siege of London._” “Why, I never knew that London had been besieged. When did that happen?”