They were now well along in the Mediterranean. The air was cool and crisp, yet there were dozens of people on deck watching the sunset and the sailors who were trimming the ship. There were passengers on board for China, Japan, India and Australia. A half hundred soldiers, returning to the East, after a long furlough at home, made the ship lively. They were under loose discipline and were inclined to be hilarious. A number were forward now, singing the battle songs of the British and the weird ones of the natives. Quite a crowd had collected to listen, including Ridgeway and Veath, who were strolling along the deck, arm in arm, enjoying an after-dinner smoke, and had paused in their walk near the group, enjoying the robust, devil-may-care tones of the gallant subalterns. Miss Vernon was in her stateroom trying to jot down in a newly opened diary the events of the past ten days. She was up to ears in the work, and was almost overcome by its enthusiasm. It was to be a surprise for Hugh at some distant day, when she could have it printed and bound for him alone. There was to be but one copy printed, positively, and it was to belong to Hugh. Her lover as he strode the deck was unconscious of the task unto which she had bent her energy. He knew nothing of the unheard-of intricacies in punctuation, spelling and phraseology. She was forced at one time to write Med and a dash, declaring, in chagrin, that she would add the remainder of the word when she could get to a place where a dictionary might tell her whether it was spelled Mediterranean or Mediteranian. Suddenly, Hugh pressed Veath's arm a little closer. "Look over there near the rail. There's the prettiest girl I've ever seen!" "Where?" "Can't point, because she's looking this way. Girl with a dark green coat, leaning on an old gentleman's arm--" "I see," interrupted Veath. "By George! she's pretty!" "No name for it! Have you in your life ever seen anything so beautiful?" cried Ridgeway. He stared at her so intently that she averted her face. "Wonder who she can be? The old man must be her father. Strange we haven't seen them before. I'm sure that she hasn't been on deck." "You seem interested--do you want a flirtation?" "Oh, Grace wouldn't stand for that--not for a minute." "I don't believe she would object if you carried it on skilfully," smiled the other. "It wouldn't be right, no matter how harmless. I couldn't think of being so confoundedly brutal." "Sisters don't usually take such things to heart." Hugh came to himself with a start and for a moment or two could find no word of response, so deeply engrossed was he in the effort to remember whether he had said anything that might have betrayed his secret. "Oh," he laughed awkwardly, "you don't understand me. Grace is so--well, so--conscientious, that if she thought I was--er--trifling, you know, with a girl, she'd--she'd have a fit. Funniest girl you ever saw about those things--perfect paragon."