"Oh yes, Mrs. Harris, icebergs that float down the Atlantic are born on the west coast of Greenland. Up there great valleys are filled with snow and ice from hill-top to hill-top, reaching back up the valleys, in some instances from thirty to forty miles. This valley-ice is called a 'Mer de Glace,' and has a motion down the valley, like any river, but of three feet more or less only per day. If time enough is allowed, vast quantities of this valley-ice move into the gulf or sea. When the sea is disturbed by a storm the ice wall or precipice is broken off, and enormous masses, often a hundred times larger than a big building, fall and float away with the report of the firing of a park of artillery, and these floating mountains of ice are lighted in their lonely pathways by the midnight sun."

Before dinner, came the regular promenade which presented many contrasts. A pretty bride from the Blue Grass Region of Kentucky walked with her young husband whom she had first met at a New England seaside. She was glad to aid in bridging the chasm between north and south. Her traveling dress of blue was appropriately trimmed with gray.

The gorgeously dressed gambler walked on the deck alone. Then came two modest nuns dressed in gray and white. Alfonso and his mother, the judge and Lucille, and a group of little children followed. Dr. Argyle and a Philadelphia heiress kept step. Everybody walked, talked, and laughed, and the passengers had little need of the ship's doctor now. If the weather is fair the decks are always enlivened as a steamer approaches land. The next day, by noon at latest, Ireland and Fastnet Rock would be sighted, if the ship's reckoning had been correct.

After dinner, Dr. Argyle was walking the deck with Lucille in the star-light. He had told her much of his family, of his talented brother in the Church, and of another in the army; he had even ventured to speak of Lucille's grace of manner, and she feared what might follow. The call of Mrs. Harris relieved Lucille of an unpleasant situation.

Secretly, Lucille was pleased to escape from Dr. Argyle. Something in his manner told her that he was not sincere; that he was a schemer, perhaps a fortune-seeker, and she gladly rejoined her mother.

Mrs. Harris and her children often wondered how matters were progressing at home. Alfonso had faith in his father's ability to cope with the strike, but Mrs. Harris and Lucille were much worried. "Don't let us trouble," said Alfonso, "till we reach Queenstown, as there we shall surely get a cablegram from father."

Just then Leo joined the family, and Lucille taking his arm, the two walked the deck, and later they found quiet seats in the moonlight. The moon's welcome rays revealed fleece-like clouds overhead and changed the waters astern into acres of diamonds. Gentle breezes fanned the cheeks of two troubled lovers who thus far had kept well their heart secrets. Lucille's warm and sensitive nature yearned for some confidant in whom she could find consolation. Mrs. Harris never quite understood her daughter. Lucille was noble, generous, and true in her affection. Her ideal of marriage was that the busy shuttle of life must be of Divine guidance, and often she was at a loss to understand some of the deep mysteries that had clouded her own life. Of this world's blessings her life had been full, except she could not reconcile some of her late experiences. Of this, of course, Leo knew nothing. He too had had a cup of bliss dashed suddenly to the ground. A moment of anger had destroyed his plans for life. The moon's soft light changed Leo's purpose never to speak to Lucille of his affection for Rosie Ricci, and he now frankly told her the whole story.

At first Lucille did not wish to believe that Leo had ever been in love, as her own heart had turned to him in the silent hours of the night when the pain in her heart forbade sleep.

Trembling she said, "Leo, you have given Rosie up forever then?"

"Oh no, Miss Harris, it was Rosie who said to me, 'Good-bye, Leo, forever.' She accepted my attentions for a year. Alas! Rosie's love for the rich man's gold I fear was more powerful than her love for me, a poor artist, and so she threw back the ruby ring and my mother's cameo, and crushed my heart and hopes. In accepting the kind invitation of your brother to accompany your family on this trip, I hoped that the journey might heal my suffering soul."