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me pretty much the same way you did when you saw me come aboard.”
    Annoyed by the presumption that she and her mother thought alike, Elizabeth snapped, “Well, it wasn’t the turtleneck then. You weren’t wearing it when you came on board.”
    He laughed again, louder this time. “Quite right, I wasn’t.” He hesitated, then added seriously, “If I apologize for misleading you and taking advantage of your good will, will you apologize for judging me by my appearance?”
    Although his accusation rankled, Elizabeth couldn’t help noticing that his eyes laughed when his mouth did, something she had always found attractive.
    Still, she didn’t really feel like forgiving him. Unless…“I suppose I could forgive you,” she answered slowly, turning her gaze back to the sea. “But you’ll have to earn my forgiveness.”
    “And how, exactly, do I do that?”
    Elizabeth smiled. “You can start by telling me all about your life in Paris. You can tell me what it’s like for someone raised with money to strike out on his own and live on very little. That is, unless your parents were supporting you financially. Then I wouldn’t be interested.”
    “They were not supporting me. I worked as a waiter in Paris to support myself.”
    Elizabeth propped an elbow on the railing and rested her chin against it, and only then did she turn her face to meet his gaze. “Then tell me,” she insisted. “Tell me what it’s like to be on one’s own. And if you do a good job, perhaps I’ll forgive you.”
    Max began talking.

Chapter 5
    Thursday, April 11, 1912
    When Elizabeth awoke on her second day at sea, it took her several moments to realize where she was. There was no noticeable bobbing to tell her she was on the ocean, and the warm wood paneling was much like that of any hotel room. She could have been safely on land in London, Paris, Zurich, or New York.
    But she wasn’t. That realization dawned on her as she recalled the last thing Max Whittaker had said to her last night. After listening intently for over an hour to his tales of Paris, Elizabeth had been summoned by her father. “It’s after eleven,” he had called from the first-class entrance. “Come along, Elizabeth.” She had politely, if reluctantly, thanked Max for the stimulating conversation, and as she walked away, hugging her arms around her to keep warm, he had called, “Smooth sailing, Elizabeth!”
    Remembering now where she was, Elizabeth yawned and stretched slowly. As entertaining as Max’s stories had been, she knew herself well enough to realize that living in a garret somewhere, without heat or hot water, as Max had done this past year, was not for her. Max might not care a great deal about ready access to a long, soothing hot bath, but Elizabeth was painfully aware that she would be miserable without it. If her parents refused to pay her tuition at Vassar, she wouldn’t be able to go. Even if she were willing to live in a hovel and work to pay her own way, what sort of work could she find? She had no experience, no training, no qualifications.
    It’s not my fault, she thought as she dressed in a long, white knife-pleated skirt and a white long-sleeved middy top.
    But Max had been raised the same way she had. And yet he had spoken of eating week-old vegetables discarded by restaurants, and lighting his room by candlelight, and painting with fingers so cold, his knuckles ached. He had spoken of these hardships as if he had dealt with them all of his life.
    But I’m not Max, Elizabeth told herself. I don’t want to freeze in a garret. All I’m asking for is an education! My parents shouldn’t have told me “yes” throughout my life to everything any girl could want, if they were going to turn around and tell me “no” to the one thing I really want. That isn’t fair of them.
    She wasn’t very good company at breakfast. In spite of the bright, cheerful atmosphere in the dining room, which was nearly full, Elizabeth barely touched the