He threw back his head and laughed so heartily at the memory, that she laughed too. "I've always been rather ridiculous, haven't I?" she asked him. "My child, that is an elderly remark," he said, and he left her--on the whole, cheered. He promptly made his suggestion to the Bryces. It was discussed pro and con and then finally it was decided to ship the girl off, in Miss Watts's care, for it was evident that she was making herself ill with the humiliation of her failure. * * * * * So, one day in November Wally saw them off. "You look like a Brownie," he said, as he kissed Isabelle good-bye. "For goodness' sake, get some flesh on your bones." "Don't worry, old thing," she answered. "I'll come back fat, and chastened in spirit." He grinned, and ran for the gangway, and stood waving and smiling as the steamer slipped from the pier. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR The two travellers settled themselves and took stock of the passengers in the casual way of those who go down to the sea in ships. Miss Watts was prepared to have Isabelle throw herself into the activities of the brief voyage, in order that she might forget her troubles. She did just the opposite. She lay in her chair, reading or contemplating the sea; she marched the deck in absent-minded solitude. Miss Watts was the only person she spoke to, or permitted to speak to her. But her odd face, her unusual clothes, and her great _hauteur_ marked her at once in the eyes of the idlers who sat on deck and gossiped. She was soon identified as the heroine of the Cartel opening. Speculation and much interest followed her. The second day out the chair to the right of Isabelle was occupied for the first time. A cursory glance was enough to assure her of the following facts: he was handsome "as an army with banners"; he wore an English officer's uniform; and he was very pale. She decided to have another look in a moment. She settled herself comfortably--aware that his eyes were upon her--and opened her book, with an air of great detachment. Miss Watts was not on deck at the moment. It was some time before she got another chance to look at him unobserved. She saw that he had crinkly hair and a ridiculous little moustache, twisted at the tips. He had his eyes closed. He certainly was white, but one strong, lean, brown hand lay on his lap, giving her a feeling of relaxed power. His eyes opened unexpectedly, and she had to return to her book in haste. His eyes were very blue and she thought there was a smile in them. Miss Watts's arrival interrupted this interchange, if it was an interchange. But in a few minutes another officer came to chat with the invalid. "Hello, Larry, old man, how are ye?" he inquired. "I'm fairly fit to-day, thanks." "Glad you can be on deck." "Rather. I thought I'd croak in that hole of a stateroom." "Lot of people aboard we know. Mrs. Darlington, for one. Remember her in London?" "Rather."