"So this is your den?" she said, throwing her bird-like glance over the

bright interior, before she gave the commander a look which was

designed to bewitch him instantly. "Surely you don't sleep here, too?"

"Oh, no. This room is the brain of the ship, Miss Baring. We are

always wide-awake here. My quarters are farther aft. I think I can

find a chair for you if you care to sit down while I have my tea."

The captain led the way to a spacious cabin behind the chart-house.

"I hope you don't mind the chairs being secured to the deck," he said,

taking off his hat. "So far above sea line, you know, everything that

is loose comes to grief when the ship rolls."

"Then what becomes of your photographs?" demanded Isobel, promptly, her

quick eyes having discovered the pictures of two ladies in silver

frames on a writing-table.

"I take care to put them away. There is always plenty of warning. No

ordinary sea can trouble a big hulk like the Kansas."

"Is that your mother, the dear old lady in the lace cap?"

"Yes, and the other is my sister."

"Oh, really! Is she married?"

"No. Like me, she is wedded to her profession."

"Will you think it rude if I ask what that is?"

"She is a hospital nurse; the matron, indeed, of a public institution

in the suburbs of London."

"How wonderful! I do admire hospital nurses so much. They are so

clever and self-sacrificing, and they always have a smile on their

sweet faces. Only dad wouldn't hear of such a thing, I should love to

be a nurse myself."

And Isobel sighed, dropped her long eyelashes, and examined the toe of

a smart brown shoe with a wistful resignation. Courtenay was politely

incredulous, but the arrival of the steward with the replenished

tea-tray created a diversion.

"Do let me pour your tea," cried Isobel. "I make lovely tea, don't I,

Elsie?"

Elsie laughed so cheerfully that Isobel flashed an interrogatory glance

at her. Certainly, the notion of Isobel Baring claiming the domestic

virtues was amusing. But Elsie answered at once: "I know few things that you cannot do admirably, dear."

So Isobel filled a cup, asked if Captain Courtenay took milk and sugar,

and said demurely, with a sip of a spoonful: "Let me see if I can guess your tastes."

Elsie's blue eyes assumed a deeper shade. Men might like that kind of

thing, but she felt that her face and neck would be poppy red in

another moment. Thus far she had not addressed a word to Courtenay,

though by his manner he had included her in the conversation. She now

resolved to break in on the attack which Isobel was beginning with the

adroitness of a skilled campaigner. And she, too, could use her eyes

to advantage when she chose.




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