“Why, you said you hoped she wouldn't. You said it would be embarrassing. You're hard to please, Staniford.” “I shouldn't choose to have her speak for _my_ pleasure,” Staniford returned. “But it argues a dullness and coldness in her--” “I don't believe she's dull; I don't believe she's cold,” said Dunham, warmly. “What _do_ you believe she is?” “Afraid.” “Pshaw!” said Staniford. The eve of their arrival at Messina, he discharged one more duty by telling Hicks that he had better come on to Trieste with them. “Captain Jenness asked me to speak to you about it,” he said. “He feels a little awkward, and thought I could open the matter better.” “The captain's all right,” answered Hicks, with unruffled humility, “but I'd rather stop at Messina. I'm going to get home as soon as I can,--strike a bee-line.” “Look here!” said Staniford, laying his hand on his shoulder. “How are you going to manage for money?” “Monte di Pietà,” replied Hicks. “I've been there before. Used to have most of my things in the care of the state when I was studying medicine in Paris. I've got a lot of rings and trinkets that'll carry me through, with what's left of my watch.” “Are you sure?” “Sure.” “Because you can draw on me, if you're going to be short.” “Thanks,” said Hicks. “There's something I should like to ask you,” he added, after a moment. “I see as well as you do that Miss Blood isn't the same as she was before. I want to know--I can't always be sure afterwards--whether I did or said anything out of the way in her presence.” “You were drunk,” said Staniford, frankly, “but beyond that you were irreproachable, as regarded Miss Blood. You were even exemplary.” “Yes, I know,” said Hicks, with a joyless laugh. “Sometimes it takes that turn. I don't think I could stand it if I had shown her any disrespect. She's a lady,--a perfect lady; she's the best girl I ever saw.” “Hicks,” said Staniford, presently, “I haven't bored you in regard to that little foible of yours. Aren't you going to try to do something about it?”