They had turned to the bulwarks the moment they came on deck, and, without casting a look round, had glanced at the distant coast, and then mentally plunged their eyes into the cloud ahead, beyond which stood Robert Hallam awaiting their coming. "I had the pleasure of speaking to you before the storm, ladies," said a voice, and as they turned quickly, it was to find Lieutenant Eaton, cap in hand, smiling, and slightly flushed. Mrs Hallam bowed. "I sincerely trust that you have quite recovered," continued the young officer, directing an admiring gaze at Julia. "Quite, I thank you," said Mrs Hallam coldly. "Then we shall see you at the table, Mrs Hallam--and Miss Hallam?" he continued, with another bow. Julia returned the bow, looking flushed and rather indignant. "I hope you will excuse me," continued Eaton; "on shipboard you see we are like one family, all as it were in the same house." Mrs Hallam bowed again, flushing as ingenuously as her daughter, for these advances troubled her greatly. She would have preferred being alone, and in a more humble portion of the vessel, but Sir Gordon and Bayle had insisted upon her occupying one of the best cabins, and it seemed to her that she was there under false pretences, and that it was only a question of days before there must come discovery which would put them to open shame. Driven, as it were, to bay by the young officer's words, she replied hastily: "You must excuse me now; I have scarcely recovered." "Pray forgive me," cried Eaton, giving Julia a look full of intelligence which made her shrink, "I ought to have known better. In a short time I hope, Mrs Hallam, that we shall be better acquainted." He raised his cap again and drew back, while, excited and agitated beyond her wont, Mrs Hallam exclaimed: "It cannot be, Julie. We must keep ourselves aloof from these people-- from all the passengers; our course is alone--till we join him." "Yes," said Julia, in a troubled way, "we must be alone." "These people who make advances to us now," continued Mrs Hallam, "would master the object of our journey before we had gone far, and then we should be the pariahs of the ship." "Would they be so unjust, mother?" "Yes, for they do not know the truth. If they were told all, they would not believe it. My child, it was so that the world should never turn upon us and revile us for our misfortune that I have insisted all these years on living so reserved a life. And now we must go on in the same retired manner. If we are drawn into friendly relations with these people, our story will ooze out, and we shall have to endure the insult and misery of seeing them turn their backs upon us. Better that we should ostracise ourselves than suffer it at other hands; the blow will be less keen." "I am ready to do all you wish, dear," said Julia, stealing her hand into her mother's.