They had not made much progress in their frail life-boat, notwithstanding the unrelaxing energies of the sailors, and found that they were still five days from New York when they were picked up by the other steamer; and although somewhat weakened by hunger and suffering and the intense cold, yet none appeared to be seriously affected by their experience, and a day or two served to make a great change for the better in them all. On the evening of the second day after their rescue, Star consented to be carried up on deck; the day was keen and cold, but the sun was bright and inviting. She was very wan and pale, but possessed a delicate beauty that attracted every one. They took her directly to Mr. Rosevelt, and she gave him her thin hand without a word. He, too, looked so thin and white that the tears sprang to her eyes, and she could not speak. “Dear child,” he said, tremulously, and taking it in both of his, “they tell me that but for your unwearied efforts I should have died. I have no words adequate to thank you for the gift of my life; but, little Star, I shall never forget it.” She could not talk much, she was still too weak, but she was glad to be near him, and gave him as bright a smile as she could summon to her lips; and then, chancing to glance another way, she found a pair of dark, handsome eyes fixed earnestly upon her face. They belonged to the young man in whose arms she had fainted upon finding that they were all safe once more. He lifted his hat respectfully as he caught her glance, and then advancing, said, courteously: “I trust the young lady is much better this morning.” Star bowed a somewhat cold assent, for she had been very carefully reared by her refined mother, and taught to be rather shy of strangers. Then, thinking that was but a poor return for his interest in her welfare, she said, with a rising flush, for there was no mistaking the look in those fine eyes: “Thanks; I am very comfortable this morning.” Mr. Rosevelt smiled. He had noticed Star’s reserve, and it pleased him. “She is a little lady,” he thought; then he said aloud, with a look at the young man, though he spoke to her: “I am very fortunate in finding friends, for since you have been confined to your state-room, this young gentleman—though I have not yet learned his name—has ministered to me in a manner most kind.” Star’s eyes glowed at this, and she vouchsafed the young stranger a smile that set his heart bounding. “I am afraid, though, that you are feeling far from well even yet,” she said, with an anxious glance into Mr. Rosevelt’s face. “Pretty well—pretty well, little one, for an old codger like myself, who has seen a good many rough times. I’m a trifle weak yet, but time will help that. We have had a narrow escape however, and you have proved yourself a heroine.”