NAMPANG ISLAND. 43

«Oh, dear, no. Uncle Eliphalet has always contrived
to dish up something in the way of dainties, and I have
been to sea too long to be fastidious about my food.”

One glance at the cabin of the Progressive Age showed
that it had been the home of a woman, for nowhere
can the imprint of a woman’s hand be seen so plainly as
at sea, where one least expects to find evidences of
refinement.

The main saloon on board the Sportsman was furnished
much more elegantly than this smail apartment, on either
side of which were bunks for the officers and passengers,
and yet in Ben’s eyes the former was not nearly as
inviting a place as was this.

A bird-cage, a work- basket, a bit of ribbon here and
a piece of half-finished embroidery there, made such a
change in the general appearance of the apartment as
could not have been effected by man.

Ben had expected to enter the cabin of the Progressive
Age as master, and take formal possession, instead of
which he followed this young woman, not much more
than half as tall as himself, with the air of one who was
intruding, and very meekly seated himself in the chair
toward which she motioned.

«Having heard the story from the men, you doubtless
know of all the trouble I have had during this voyage,”
the young lady began, and Ben, fearing he should be the
means of bringing her grief more clearly before her
mind, hastened to say:

“T did hear, Miss — Miss —”’