"What's the difference?" said the Tyro miserably. "A pretty girl don't like to be called homely any more than a homely one."
"There's where you're off, my son," returned Alderson. "She can summon her looking-glass as a witness in rebuttal."
"Anyway, I've put my foot in it up to the knee!"
"Oh, go up to-morrow when she's feeling better and tell her you were talking about the ship's cat."
"I'd show better sense by keeping out of her way altogether."
"You'll never be able to do that," said the sea-wise Alderson. "Try to avoid any one on shipboard and you'll bump into that particular person everywhere you go, from the engine-room to the forepeak. Ten to one she sits next to you at table."
"I'll have my seat changed," cried the other in panic. "I'll eat in my cabin. I'll fast for the week."
"You be a game sport and I'll help you out," promised his friend. "All hands to repel boarders! Here she comes!"
Little Miss Grouch bore down upon them with her much-maligned nose in the air. As she maneuvered to pass, the ship, which had reached the climax of its normal roll to port, paused, and then decided to go a couple of degrees farther; in consequence of which the young lady fled with a stifled cry of fury straight into the Tyro's waiting arms. Alderson, true to his promise, extracted her, set her on her way, and turned anxiously to his young friend.
"Did she bite you?" he inquired solicitously.