: Ships That Pass in the Night by Harraden Beatrice - Friendship Fiction; Death Fiction; Sick Fiction

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SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT.

A NEW-COMER.

"YES, indeed," remarked one of the guests at the English table, "yes, indeed, we start life thinking that we shall build a great cathedral, a crowning glory to architecture, and we end by contriving a mud hut!"

"I am glad you think so well of human nature," said the Disagreeable Man, suddenly looking up from the newspaper which he always read during meal- time. "I should be more inclined to say that we end by being content to dig a hole, and get into it, like the earth men."

A silence followed these words; the English community at that end of the table was struck with astonishment at hearing the Disagreeable Man speak. The few sentences he had spoken during the last four years at Petershof were on record; this was decidedly the longest of them all.

"He is going to speak again," whispered beautiful Mrs. Reffold to her neighbour.

The Disagreeable Man once more looked up from his newspaper.

"Please, pass me the Yorkshire relish," he said in his rough way to a girl sitting next to him.

"Is that what you asked for?" she said half dreamily; "or was it the water-bottle?"

"You are rather deaf, I should think," said the Disagreeable Man placidly. "I only remarked that it was a pity you were not eating your dinner. Perhaps the scrutiny of the two hundred and fifty guests in this civilized place is a vexation to you."

"I did not know they were scrutinizing," she answered; "and even if they are, what does it matter to me? I am sure I am quite too tired to care."

"Why have you come here?" asked the Disagreeable Man suddenly.

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