Nora squeezed the little grimy hand so affectionately that he shrank back lest she should kiss him, "before everybody"--the erratic and inconsiderate conduct of women in kissing boys was one of his trials. However, she was more judicious. She went on: "I knew I could trust you to be just, Oscar. Only you must remember that Ned isn't impulsive like you; it takes him a long time to get over things. You have made him unhappy and he may not be ready to forgive you at a minute's notice. But if you persevere, I am sure he will understand you and you will be the best friends possible." Privately, she resolved to try to soften Edmund's resentment before Oscar should speak to him. But the unfortunate Oscar did not let a moment slip. No sooner was his aunt's back turned to speak to an acquaintance than he darted away "to find Ned." Ned was easily found. He was lying in his berth so bundled up in a rug that only a patch of his hair was visible. The poor boy had been crying; but of course Oscar could not know that. He began in a loud, cheerful voice that grated on Edmund's nerves. "I say, Ned, s'pose we make up! we'd have lots more fun being friends; and I'll learn you how to box and everything." No answer. "Say, Ned, are you 'sleep?" "No, I'm not," came in a fierce, smothered voice from the heap on the berth, "and I wish you'd leave me alone!" "Then you don't want to make up and be friends?" said Oscar, in a changed voice. "No, I don't." "All right for you, then!" said Oscar. With which withering sarcasm and a vast deal of dignity he marched out of the room. "Catch me trying that again," thought he. Nevertheless his pride was soon conquered by his new admiration of Edmund and his longing for society. In a day or two he brought his best cap to his cousin, saying with assumed carelessness: "You can have it, if you want it, for the one I knocked overboard." "Thanks," answered Edmund stiffly; "I don't want it; I've plenty of caps." He met all Oscar's rough yet timid advances in the same spirit. He was always civil, but an iceberg would have been as companionable. To Nora who remonstrated with him he said: "I can't help it; I don't like him and I never shall. He's bullied me all the voyage and now he thinks he has only to ask me and I'll make up. I wish he'd let me alone!" "How unforgiving you are, Ned," said Nora, "don't you ever do wrong things yourself?" "I never do mean things. And it's no use talking; I shall always despise him." She said no more, thinking, "I will leave it to time. They will be so much together that they will have to like each other to be comfortable. If only Oscar doesn't lose his temper and take to tormenting him again!" Happily Oscar kept his temper. He had a great notion of fairness and, once convinced that he had done wrong, he took his punishment unflinchingly, angry for the moment, sometimes, but bearing no malice.