plain, too, that he must be on board. He must be a very shy man to

have suffered this invasion of his residence, and made no sign; and her

courage rose higher at the thought. He must come now, she must force him

from his privacy, for the plank was too heavy for her single strength;

so she tapped upon the open door. Then she tapped again.

'Mr Jimson,' she cried, 'Mr Jimson! here, come!--you must come, you

know, sooner or later, for I can't get off without you. O, don't be so

exceedingly silly! O, please, come!'

Still there was no reply.

'If he is here he must be mad,' she thought, with a little fear. And the

next moment she remembered he had probably gone aboard like herself in

a boat. In that case she might as well see the houseboat, and she pushed

open the door and stepped in. Under the table, where he lay smothered

with dust, Gideon's heart stood still.

There were the remains of Jimson's lunch. 'He likes rather nice things

to eat,' she thought. 'O, I am sure he is quite a delightful man. I

wonder if he is as good-looking as Mr Forsyth. Mrs Jimson--I don't

believe it sounds as nice as Mrs Forsyth; but then "Gideon" is so really

odious! And here is some of his music too; this is delightful. Orange

Pekoe--O, that's what he meant by some kind of tea.' And she trilled

with laughter. 'Adagio molto espressivo, sempre legato,' she read

next. (For the literary part of a composer's business Gideon was well

185

The Wrong Box