Then that judicious lady looked very intelligent, but said nothing more. She sat down and began to stroke Annie's brown, dishevelled hair. But instead of showing very great sympathy for her niece, she had an unusually complacent expression. Gregory had a strong but discreet friend in the camp. When Annie became calmer, she said, hesitatingly, "Do you think--is Mr. Gregory--doesn't he eat anything?" "No; he is really wronging himself. I heard it said that the captain had threatened, jokingly, to put him in irons if he did not obey orders and eat his allowance." "Do you think I could make--do you think he would do better if I should ask him?" inquired Annie, with her face buried in her pillow. "Well," said Miss Eulie, gravely, though with a smile upon her face, "Mr. Gregory is very self-willed, especially about some things, but I do think that you have more power over him than any one else." "Won't you tell him that I want to see him?" He was very glad to come. Annie tried hard to be very firm and composed, but, with her red eyes and full heart, did not succeed very well. At first he was a little embarrassed by her close scrutiny, for she had wrought herself up into the expectation of seeing a gaunt, famine-stricken man. But his cheeks, though somewhat hollow, were ruddy, and his face was bronzed by exposure. Instead of being pained by his cadaverous aspect, she was impressed by his manly beauty; but she said, "I have sent for you that I might give you a scolding." "I'm all meekness," he said, a little wonderingly. "Aunty tells me that you don't eat anything." "That is just what she says of you." "But I'm ill and can't eat." "Neither can I." "Why not?" "How can a man eat when there are hungry women aboard? It would choke me." Instead of scolding him, she again buried her face in her pillow, and burst into tears. He was a little perplexed, but said, gently, "Come, my dear little sister, I hope you are not worrying about me. I assure you there is no cause. I never felt better, and the worst that can happen is a famine in England when I reach. It grieves me to the heart to see you so pale and weak. The captain says I have a bad conscience, but it's only anxiety for you that makes me so restless." "Do you stay upon deck all night this bitter weather?" "Well, I want to be ready if anything should happen." "O Walter, Walter! how I have wronged you!" "No, beg your pardon, you have righted me. What was I when I first knew you, Annie Walton? There is some chance of my being a man now. But come, let me cheer you up. I have good news for you. If I had lost every dollar on that ship I should still be rich, for your little Bible (I shall always call it yours) remained safe in my overcoat pocket, and you brought it aboard. Now let me read you something that will comfort you. I find a place where it is written, 'Begin here.' Can you account for that?"