"Not since dinner. All the young people have been asking for her. Did
you look in the writing-room ?"
"I've looked everywhere except in the coal-bunkers," said the captain,
gruffly. "Talk to me about responsibility. I'd rather run a schooner up
the Hoogli than to steer that girl of mine."
"You've wakened to your duty rather late, haven't you!" asked Mrs.
Weston. "I suppose it's the Englishman who is making you anxious?"
The captain dropped his voice.
"Did you see the way she looked at him at dinner? By George! it was
enough to melt the leg off an iron pot!"
"It's been coming for a week," said Mrs. Weston, wisely. "If you really
oppose it, there is no time to be lost."
"Oppose it? Of course I oppose it. What's to be done?"
"The situation requires delicate handling. Would you like me to try and
help you out--share the responsibility of chaperoning her, I mean?"
"Permanently?" asked the captain, shooting a quizzical glance at her
from under his heavy brows.
"You wretch!" said Mrs. Weston, flushing. "Just to Hong-Kong, I mean."
That night about ten o'clock the captain, who happened to be crossing
the steerage deck, came quite unexpectedly upon Percival and Bobby
groping their way through the dark.
[Illustration: "Roberta!" he called sternly. "What are you doing out
here?"]
"Roberta," he called sternly, "What are you doing out here?"
"Oh," cried Bobby, breathlessly, feeling her way around the hatch,
"we've been out on the prow for hours, and it was simply gorgeous.
Pages:
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77