between them, she never seemed to have a shadow of a doubt that she was in the right, and as Hector was equally positive about his own position, relationships frequently grew so strained that Peggy would rise from the table half-way through the meal, and stalk majestically out of the saloon. She invariably repented her hastiness by the time she reached the deck, for dessert was the part of the meal which she most enjoyed, so that when the major followed ten minutes later on, bearing a plate of carefully selected fruit as a peace-offering, he was sure of a gracious welcome.

“But you must never contradict me on Tuesdays, I can’t support it!” she said on one of these occasions, as he seated himself beside her, and watched her raising the grapes to her lips with her little finger cocked well in the air. “Especially when I am in the right, as you must admit—”

“I admit nothing; but I pray and beseech you not to begin the discussion over again. I am nine years older than you, and must surely be supposed to know a little more.”

“If you only realised it, that is just the reason why you don’t. The world advances so rapidly with every decade, that you of the last generation have necessarily enjoyed fewer opportunities than myself and my contemporaries, and are therefore behind the times. It’s not your fault, of course, and I don’t advance it in any way as a reproach, but still—”

Major Darcy stared at her, struck dumb by an insinuation of age which was even more hurtful than that of inferior knowledge; but before he had recovered himself sufficiently to reply, his companion had finished her dessert, presented him calmly with the empty plate, and risen to take her departure.

“Where are you going?” he queried in an injured tone; for it was one of his pet grievances that the girl refused to be appropriated by himself whenever he wished to enjoy her society. “Can’t you sit still for an hour at least? You have been rushing about all the morning. Surely now you can take a rest!”

But Peggy shook her head.

“Impossible! I’m engaged straight away from now until tea-time. The nurse of those peevish little Mortons is worn out, for the mother is ill, and can’t help her at all, so I promised to amuse the children for an hour after lunch while she takes a nap. Then I have to play a game of halma with old Mr Schute, and help Miss Ranger to dress and come on deck. She thinks she can manage it to-day, and it will do her a world of good to get some fresh air.”

“But why need you fag yourself for all these people? Surely there is some one else who can do it. Can you not send your maid to look after the children, at least, and take that hour to yourself?”

Peggy smiled with complacent satisfaction.

“They would scream themselves hoarse. Of all the spoilt, bad-tempered little ruffians you ever encountered, they are the worst, and there is not a soul on board who can manage them except myself. Yesterday they got so cross that I was almost in despair, and it was only by pretending to be a wild buffalo, and letting them chase me and dig pencils into me for spears, that I could keep them in any sort of order. When they grew tired of the buffalo, I changed into a musical-box, and they ground tunes out of me until my throat was as dry as leather. It kept us going for a long time, however, for they all wanted to hear their own favourite tunes, and were so charmed with the variations. I wish you could have heard the variations! I was so proud of them. The scales ran up and down just like a real musical-box, the tremolo and arpeggio chords were fine, and as for the trills, they were simply entr–r–rancing!” Peggy rolled the ‘r’ with a self-satisfied enjoyment which made Hector laugh in spite of his displeasure, and finished up with an explanatory, “I could never expect Parker to pose as a wild buffalo. She has far too much sense of dignity!”

“Oh, of course, I acknowledge that you have a wonderful knack with children! Every one sees that,” allowed Hector unwillingly. “It is very kind and delightful of you to bother about other people as you do; but what I complain of is the extent of your services, and—aw—the nature of the recipients! Miss Ranger, for instance, is an impossible person. What she calls herself I don’t know, but she doesn’t even begin to be a lady. I heard her talking the other day, and she has a vile accent, and not an ‘h’ in her composition.”

“She has enough responsibilities without them at present, poor soul, so perhaps it’s just as well. She has been ill ever since we started, and has no friend nor servant to look after her. She fell on the floor in a faint one day while she was trying to dress, and lay there helpless until the stewardess happened to go in and find her. That sort of thing sha’n’t happen twice on board this ship, if I can help it!” cried Peggy with a straightening of the slim little back which seemed to add a couple of inches to her height, and a toss of the head which convinced Major Darcy that it was no use arguing further on this point. It was astonishing how often he was forced to retire from post to post in arguments with Miss Saville, and the consciousness that this was the case gave him courage to enter yet a third protest.

“Well, at least, old Schute is hearty enough! There is no necessity to pity him; and, really, don’t you know, he is hardly the right sort of friend for you. Do you know who he is? The proprietor of one of the big drapers’ shops in Calcutta.”

“It was a very good shop,” said Peggy reflectively. “They were most obliging in sending patterns. Two of the assistants were in a class mother held for English girls, and they said he was so kind and considerate, and had even paid to send some of them to the hill, after they had been ill. I’ve a great respect for Mr Schute.”

“Quite so; but that’s not exactly a reason why you should play halma with him. I’ve a respect for him also, if what you say is true, but he is not in our class, as he himself would acknowledge, and it’s not the thing for you to be seen talking to him. There are certain restrictions which we must all observe.”

“Excuse me—I don’t observe them. I am Mariquita Saville. Nothing that I can do can alter that fact, or take from me the position to which I was born,” replied Peggy, with that air of overweening pride in her belongings which had a distinctly humorous aspect in the eyes of her companion, for though a county name and some well-won decorations are, no doubt, things to be valued, nothing short of a pedigree traced direct from the Flood itself would have justified the ineffable assurance of her manner.

He was not rash enough, however, to put such a reflection into words, so he stood in silence until once again the girl turned to leave him, when he found his tongue quickly enough.

“You are really going then?”

“Certainly I’m going!”

“You’ll tire yourself out with those children, and get a headache into the bargain in the stuffy cabins.”

“I think it’s extremely probable.”

“Then why will you be obstinate, and go in spite of all I can, say?”

“Shall I tell you why?” Peggy raised her head and stared at him with brilliant eyes. “I must go and help these poor people because you—and others like you—refuse to do it! I can’t bear to see them neglected, but I should be delighted to share the work with some one else. Major Darcy, will you do me a favour? Mr Schute is very lonely; no one speaks to him, and his eyes are so weak that he can’t amuse himself by reading. He is a very interesting old man, and I assure you his ‘h’s’ are above reproach. Will you have a game of halma with him this afternoon instead of me, and so set me free from my promise?”

Haughty Hector’s stare of amazement was a sight to behold. He, Hector Darcy, play a game with a tradesman in the saloon of a steamship? Associate on terms of intimacy with a