I4O BEATING THE SPRINGS AND THE WOOD. 



" Thank you," she said smiling, as I offered 

 to help her on with the cloak and to wrap her 

 in the shawl ; " I could not remain below, the 

 morning is so fine." 



" I think we are pretty sure of a calm pass- 

 age." 



" I am glad of that for my companions' 

 sake: I am a good sailor myself." 



" Are you not afraid of the chill ? there is 

 always a cold mist over the sea at this hour." 



" O, not the least afraid." 



I remember with a clear distinctness how our 

 conversation grew, but I doubt whether it would 

 be as interesting to others as it was to me. 

 In fact, before the sun rose and a beautiful 

 dawn it was, flushing over the far edge of the 

 green waves we had become strangely con- 

 fidential. Perhaps I ought rather to say / had. 

 The lady listened with interest enough to en- 

 courage me, and at last I told her what was 

 bringing me to Ireland. 



" I am to edit a paper for an old woman." 



" Indeed ! it was a strange notion of yours, 

 this adventure. How odd it would turn out 

 if she were a widow and you were to marry 



