Hiding her face in her hands, Mary burst into a passionate fit of weeping, then snatching the bonnet from George's lap, she threw it on her head and was hurrying away, when George caught her and pulling her back, said, "Forgive me, Mary.

I couldn't help plaguing you a little, but I'll try and not do it again." For a time George kept this resolution, but he could not conceal the preference which he felt for Ella, whose doll-like face, and childish ways were far more in keeping with his taste, than Mary's old look and still older manner.

Whenever he noticed her at all, he spoke kindly to her; but she knew there was a great difference between his treatment of her and Ella, and oftentimes, when saying her evening prayer she prayed that George Moreland might love her a little just a little.
Two weeks had passed since the last vestige of land had disappeared from view, and then George was taken dangerously ill with fever.

Mrs.
Howard herself visited him frequently, but she commanded her children to keep away, lest they, too, should take the disease.

For a day or two Mary obeyed her mother, and then curiosity led her near George's berth.