"That's all right, Veath. Depend upon me, I'll not breathe it to another soul. It shall not go a bit farther. Grace wants to go about the good work as quietly as possible. Still, I am bound to make her forget the heathen and return to America another woman altogether." Mr. Veath, of course, did not understand the strange smile that flitted over his companion's face as he uttered the last remark. "I'm glad I met you, Veath; we'll get along famously, I'm sure. There's no reason why we shouldn't make the voyage a jolly one. I think we'd better get ready for luncheon," said Hugh, looking at his watch. Hugh took his departure, and fifteen minutes later was seated at one of the tables in the dining-room with Grace beside him. He had told her of the missionary story and was trying to smile before her display of genuine annoyance. "But I don't want him to treat me as if I were a missionary," she pouted. "What fun can a missionary have?" "Oho, you want to have fun with him, eh? That's the way the wind blows, is it? I'll just tell Mr. Veath that you pray night and day, and that you don't like to be disturbed. What do you suppose he'd be if he interrupted a woman's prayers?" demanded he, glaring at her half jealously. "He'd be a heathen and I should have to enlighten him," she answered sweetly. Just then Mr. Veath entered the saloon and took a seat beside her. She looked surprised, as did Mr. Ridgeway. They looked to the far end of the table and saw that Veath's original chair was occupied by another man. "I traded seats with that fellow," murmured Veath, a trifle red about the ears. Miss Vernon's face assumed a stony expression for an instant, but the gleam of pure frankness in his eyes dispelled her momentary disapproval. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked hastily. "Not at all, Mr. Veath," she said, forgetting that a moment before she had considered him presumptuous. "On the contrary, I think it is so much nicer to have you on this side of the table. We can talk without having everybody in the room hear us." "I have just heard that we are bound for the same destination and we can certainly speculate among ourselves as to the outcome of our individual and collective pilgrimages. We can talk about shipwrecks, pirates, simoons, cholera, sea serpents--" "And the heathen," said Hugh maliciously, but not looking up from his plate. "Ahem!" coughed loyal Mr. Veath. "Are there any heathen over there?" asked Miss Vernon very innocently but also very maliciously. She smiled at Hugh, who leaned far back in his chair and winked solemnly at the bewildered Veath. That gentleman, manlike, interpreted Hugh's wink as the means of conveying the information that the tactful young lady asked the question merely to throw him off the scent. So he answered very politely but very carefully. "I hear there are more missionaries than heathen."