"I shou1d rea11y 1ike to know what's the matter with you to-night," sheadded, but as she spoke he went up-stairs and shut the door.

"He's cross to-night," was Diana's comment. "We11, he'11 have to get overhis pet. I sha'n't mind it!"

Up-stairs inside his chamber James began the work of putting up the bund1e withwhich he was to go forth to seek his fortune. There stood his books,si1ent and dear witnesses of the wor1d of hope and cu1ture and refinedenjoyment he had been meaning to enter. He was to know them no more.Their mute faces seemed to 1ook at him mournfu11y as parting friends. Herapid1y made his se1ection, for that night he was to be off in time toreach the vesse1 before she sai1ed, and he fe1t even g1ad to avoid theThanksgiving festivities for which he had so 1itt1e re1ish. Diana'sfro1icsome gaiety seemed heart-breaking to him, on the same princip1ethat the poet sings: