It contained a pretty little green-bound copy of Emerson's Poems, with Katy's name and `To be read at sea' written on the flyleaf. Somehow, the little gift seemed to bridge the long misty distance which stretched between the vessel's stern and Boston Bay, and to bring home and friends a great deal nearer. With a half-happy, half-tearful pleasure Katy recognized the fact that distance counts for little if people love one another, and that hearts have a telegraph of their own whose messages are as sure and swift as any of those sent over the material lines which link continent to continent and shore with shore.

Later in the morning, Katy, going down to her state room for something, came across a pallid, exhausted- looking lady who lay stretched on one of the long sofas in the cabin; she had a baby in her arms and a little girl sitting at her feet, quite still, with a pair of small hands folded in her lap. The little girl did not seem to be more than four years old. She had two pigtails of thick flaxen hail hanging over her shoulders, and at Katy's approach raised a pair of solemn blue eyes, which had so much appeal in them, though she said nothing, that Katy stopped at once.

`Can I do anything for you?' she asked. `I am afraid you have been very ill.'

At the sound of her voice the lady on the sofa opened her eyes. She tried to speak, but to Katy's dismay began to cry instead, and when the words came they were strangled with sobs.

`You are so kind to ask,' she said. `If you would give my little girl something to eat! She has had nothing since yesterday, and I have been so ill, and nobody has come near us!'

`Oh!' cried Katy, with horror, `nothing to eat since yesterday! How did it happen?'

`Everybody has been sick on our side of the ship,' explained the poor lady, `and I suppose the stewardess thought, as I had a maid with me, that I needed her less than the others. But my maid has been sick too, and oh, so selfish! She wouldn't even take the baby into the berth with her, and I have had all I could do to manage with him, when I couldn't lift up my head. Little Gretchen has had to go without anything, and she has been so good and patient!'

Katy lost no time, but ran for Mrs Barrett, whose indignation knew no bounds when she heard how the helpless party had been neglected.

`It's a new person that stewardess h'is, ma'am,' she explained, `and most h'inefficient! I told the Captain when she come aboard that I didn't 'ave much opinion of her, and now he'll see how it h'is. I'm h'ashamed that such a thing should 'appen on the Spartacus, ma'am - I h'am, h'indeed. H'it never would 'ave been so h'unde h'Eliza, ma'am - she's the one that went h'off and got herself married the trip before last, and this person came to take her place.'

All the time that she talked Mrs Barrett was busy in making Mrs Ware - for that, it seemed, was the sick lady's name - more comfortable, and Katy was feeding Gretchen out of a big bowl full of bread and milk which one of the stewards had brought. The little uncomplaining thing was evidently half starved, but with the mouthfuls the pink began to steal back into her cheeks and lips, and the dark circles lessened under the blue eyes. By the time the bottom of the bowl was reached she could smile, but still she said not a word except a whispered danke schön. Her mother explained that she had been born in Germany, and always had till now been cared for by a German nurse, so that she knew that language better than English.

Gretchen was a great amusement to Katy and Amy during the rest of the voyage. They kept her on deck with them a great deal, and she was perfectly content with them and very good, though always solemn and quiet. Pleasant people turned up among the passengers, as always happens on an ocean steamship, and others not so pleasant, perhaps, who were rather curious and interesting to watch.

Katy grew to feel as if she knew a great deal about her fellow travellers as time went on. There was the young girl going out to join her parents under the care of a severe governess, whom everybody on