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partner and one of his shop-girls leave New York on the City of Buffalo, and are married in England. I hope that the reporters will not get the particulars of the affair." Then, rising, she left the amazed young man to his thoughts.

      George Morris saw nothing more of Miss Katherine Earle that day.

      "I wonder what that vixen has said to her," he thought, as he turned in for the night.

      Fifth Day

      In the early morning of the fifth day out, George Morris paced the deck alone.

      "Shop-girl or not," he had said to himself, "Miss Katherine Earle is much more of a lady than the other ever was." But as he paced the deck, and as Miss Earle did not appear, he began to wonder more and more what had been said to her in the long talk of yesterday forenoon. Meanwhile Miss Earle sat in her own state-room thinking over the same subject. Blanche had sweetly asked her for permission to sit down beside her.

      "I know no ladies on board," she said, "and I think I have met you before."

      "Yes," answered Miss Earle, "I think we have met before."

      "How good of you to have remembered me," said Blanche, kindly.

      "I think," replied Miss Earle, "that it is more remarkable that you should remember me than that I should remember you. Ladies very rarely notice the shop-girls who wait upon them."

      "You seemed so superior to your station," said Blanche, "that I could not help remembering you, and could not help thinking what a pity it was you had to be there."

      "I do not think that there is anything either superior or inferior about the station. It is quite as honourable, or dishonourable, which ever it may be, as any other branch of business. I cannot see, for instance, why my station, selling ribbons at retail, should be any more dishonourable than the station of the head of the firm, who merely does on a very large scale what I was trying to do for him on a very limited scale."

      "Still," said Blanche, with a yawn, "people do not all look upon it in exactly that light."

      "Hardly any two persons look on any one thing in the same light. I hope you have enjoyed your voyage so far?"

      "I have not enjoyed it very much," replied the young lady with a sigh.

      "I am sorry to hear that. I presume your father has been ill most of the way?"

      "My father?" cried the other, looking at her questioner.

      "Yes, I did not see him at the table since the first day."

      "Oh, he has had to keep his room almost since we left. He is a very poor sailor."

      "Then that must make your voyage rather unpleasant?"

      The blonde young lady made no reply, but, taking up the book which Miss Earle was reading, said, "You don't find Mr. Morris much of a reader, I presume? He used not to be."

      "I know very little about Mr. Morris," said Miss Earle, freezingly.

      "Why, you knew him before you came on board, did you not?" questioned the other, raising her eyebrows.

      "No, I did not."

      "You certainly know he is junior partner in the establishment where you work?"

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