There had been something in the thought of Hester Bolton which had taken him back from the roughnesses of his new life, from the doubtful respectability of Mrs.Smith, from the squalor of the second-class from the whisky-laden snores of Dick Shand, to a sweeter, brighter, cleaner world.

Till this engagement had been absolutely spoken he could still indulge in that romance, distant and unreal as it was.

But now,--now it seemed to be brought in upon him very forcibly that he must rid his thoughts of Hester Bolton,--or else rid his life of Mrs.Smith.
But he was engaged to marry Mrs.Smith.Then he got up, and walked backwards and forwards along the deck, asking himself whether this could really be the truth.

Was he bound to this woman for his life?
And if so, had he done a thing of which he already repented himself?
He tried to persuade himself that she was admirably fitted for the life which he was fated to lead.

She was handsome, intellectual, a most delightful companion, and yet capable of enduring the hardships of an adventurous uncertain career.