They were laughing together at something which had happened without. Ruth saw them before either of them noticed her; and her heart halted in the excitement of expectancy during the instant Gerry Hull’s glance went about the saloon. He saw her; nodded to her and looked at once to Lady Agnes, who immediately advanced to Ruth, greeting her cordially and with perfect recollection of having talked with her at Mrs. Corliss’. Upon this French ship bound for Europe, the English girl was at home as the Englishmen at the breakfast table had been; she felt herself, in a sense, a hostess of Ruth. “You’ve been about the ship yet, Miss Gail?” Gerry Hull asked. “Only a little last night,” Ruth said. “Come out on deck then,” he invited her. “Done for just now, Agnes?” he asked. “Just now,” Agnes said. “But I know you’re not. Go on!” she bid, smiling at him as his eyes came to hers. Ruth saw it as she started away to her cabin for her coat. There had been some concern--not much, but some--in Agnes Ertyle’s look that first time she discovered Gerry Hull and Ruth together; there was no suggestion of concern now. “Hub’s sick, poor chap,” Gerry told Ruth when she came out and they set off side by side up the promenade deck against the cold, winter wind. “He wanted me to tell you that’s why he couldn’t look you up this morning.” Had Hub--her loyal, self-derogatory Hub--therefore arranged with his friend to give her this attention, Ruth wondered. Not that Gerry Hull offered himself perfunctorily; he was altogether too well bred for that. He held out his hand to her as the wind threatened to sweep her from her feet; she locked arms with him and together they struggled forward to the bow where a spray shield protected them and they turned to each other and rested. “Pretty good out here, isn’t it?” he asked, drawing deep breaths of the cold, salt air, his dark cheeks glowing. “Glorious!” Ruth cried. “I never----” she checked herself quickly, almost forgetting. “Crossed in winter before?” “No.” “Neither’ve I--in real winter weather; except when coming home this last time.” Ruth glanced up at him and caught his eyes pondering her. He had meant merely to be courteous to her when meeting her on shipboard; but too much had passed between them, in their brief, tempestuous first meeting. He was feeling that as well as she! The gage which she had thrown before him was not to be ignored. However certainly he may have thought that he would be merely polite to this girl who had--he deemed--insulted his comrades and himself, however determinedly he had planned to chat with her about wind and weather, he wanted to really talk with her now! And however firmly Ruth had decided to avoid any word which could possibly offend him, still she found herself replying: “Then you think of Chicago as your home?” “Of course; why not?” She turned her back more squarely to the wind and gazed down the length of the deck, hesitating.