She could always call upon Rose when there were visitors present and know that there would be a perfect recitation. Yet it had never given her that look of pride and self-importance that many bright ones wore like a garment. Much praise had never made her try for a position in the limelight. She had always been so sweet and unassuming, no one had seemed even jealous of her.

Of course he had never known Rose Galbraith socially. She almost never attended the parties and picnics and gatherings of the class. Only when in the line of her studies her presence was required was she always present. She had never been out with the crowd skating or attending any of their special outings, and it had never occurred to him to ask why. He hadn’t even known except vaguely, in what part of the town was her home. But now he began to wonder why she had always been so apart from the rest. Could it be an invalid mother, or poverty and hard work that was the answer to that question? Yes, perhaps it was both, for she had told him that her mother had just died.

Poor little girl! There was such a stricken look in her face! It had seemed to call forth the finest feeling of his heart. He had felt a strange new desire to take her in his arms and comfort her. He couldn’t quite understand himself. But somehow he felt glad that he had happened along before she left.

Happened? Was it chance? Could a thing that lingered with him so keenly be just a happening? Or was it somehow planned as a kind of climax to their school days? What, that quiet plain girl whose life had touched his so rarely? Why should she seem suddenly so fine and rare? Why should the thought of her linger so poignantly in his mind? She seemed so utterly alone to go across the great ocean, going to strangers!

“Oh, God, keep her safe,” he prayed as he knelt before he slept.

Rose Galbraith, as she stood on the deck alone and watched the land recede, was conscious of a comforting gladness. The touch of his hands on her hands, the touch of his lips on hers, the look of his eyes into hers, for just that last minute before he went! It was wonderful! Breathtaking! As if God, to comfort her, had prepared a friend for those last few moments. She probably would never see him again, but for that moment she had had a perfect friend for her own, and it was something she could remember all her life.

His face upturned from the throng on the wharf, the radiance of his smile! How lovely it was that she had that to remember! A symbol of her happy school days! How glad her mother would have been to know that the nicest boy in her high school had given her as much honor for those last few minutes as if she had been a princess. Maybe it would be something like that when the end of her life came, and she was about to enter the heavenly home. Only—would there be anybody to bid her good-bye then? But she wouldn’t need them, for she would be going home.

Then at once she became aware that the deck was almost deserted. People had gone to their staterooms. There would be things to be done. Her mother had told her about it all. She must unpack some of her belongings, brush her hair, and get ready for the evening meal. Also, she must get acquainted with the small compartment that was to be her refuge during this voyage.

Slowly she found her way to the cabin, reluctant to leave the spot where that pleasant good-bye had taken place. It would always be the bright memory of her voyage, for surely none of the rest could be especially pleasant, now that her mother was not along and she knew no one else on board!

It seemed almost sacrilege to her that she must now get out the pleasant garments her mother had insisted upon and apportioned each to a certain time. The pretty little frock of soft rose silk, simple in the extreme, but fair, with loving stitches of the dear hand that was gone, was the order for tonight. The tiny string of pearls from the five-and-ten that made the neckline so becoming. How far her mother had made their few dollars go in getting ready for this homegoing that had meant so much to her, but now was not going to mean anything to the sorrowful girl who was taking it as a pilgrimage alone. How it hurt to have to go through each activity that they had talked over so carefully together! How well her mother had remembered what had happened each hour of the voyage when she came over on her wedding trip.

The tears were almost at the surface now as she stood before her own stateroom. How she hoped she was to have the whole room for herself! But she had canceled her mother’s ticket, and perhaps they would have to put someone else in with her.

She opened the door and snapped on the light, for the twilight had preceded her here. It was bright enough now, and she looked about her. There were her suitcases, still locked.