Elsie bent forward to give the chatterer another cup of tea.

"And you promised to read Molière at least two hours daily!" she sighed

good-humoredly. Even the most sensible people, and Elsie was very

sensible, begin a long voyage with idiotic programs of work to be done.

"I mean to substitute a live Frenchman for a dead one--that is all.

And I am sure Monsieur le Comte Edouard de Poincilit will do our French

far more good than 'Les Fourberies de Scapin.'"

"Am I to be included in the lessons? And you actually know the man's

name already?"

"Read it on his luggage, dear girl. He has such a lot. See if he

doesn't wear three different colored shirts for breakfast, lunch, and

tea. And, if you refuse to help, who is to take care of le p'tit

Edouard while I give the captain a trot round. Don't look cross,

there's a darling, though you do remind me, when you open your eyes

that way, of a delightful little American schoolma'am I met in Lima.

She had drifted that far on her holidays, and I believe she was

horrified with me."

"Perhaps she thought you were really the dreadful person you made

yourself out to be. Now, Isobel, that does not matter a bit in

Valparaiso, where you are known, but in Paris and London--"

"Where I mean to be equally well known, it is a passport to smart

society to be un peu risqué. Steward! Give my compliments to

Captain Courtenay, and say that Miss Maxwell and Miss Baring hope he

will favor them with his company to tea."

Elsie's bright, eager face flushed slightly. She leaned forward, with

a certain squaring of the shoulders, being a determined young person in

some respects.

"For once, I shall let you off," she said in a low voice. "So I give

you fair warning, Isobel, I must not be included in impromptu

invitations of that kind. Next time I shall correct your statement

most emphatically."

"Good gracious! I only meant to be polite. Tut, tut! as dad says when

he can't swear before ladies, I shan't make the running for you any

more."

Elsie drummed an impatient foot on the deck. There was a little pause.

Isobel closed her eyes lazily, but she opened them again when she heard

her friend say: "I am sorry if I seem crotchety, dear. Indeed, it is no pretense on my

part. You cannot imagine how that man Ventana persecuted me. The mere

suggestion of any one's paying me compliments and trying to be

fascinating is so repellent that I cringe at the thought. And even our

sailor-like captain will think it necessary to play the society clown,

I suppose, seeing that we are young and passably good-looking."




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