very carefully the young man in the dark glasses must have considered which one of the four american girls traveling together he might expect to find most worth while. then he chose mildred thornton.
and this was odd, for to a casual observer mildred was the least good looking and the least gay of the four. even eugenia, in spite of her severe manner, had a certain handsomeness and under softening influences might improve both in appearance and disposition.
nevertheless, it was with mildred that nona davis, coming out of her stateroom half an hour before dinner, discovered the young man talking.
it happened that nona and mildred shared the same stateroom while the two other girls were just across the narrow[72] passageway. as the decks were apt to be freer from other passengers at this hour preceding dinner, they had arranged for a quiet walk. but now, although seeing her plainly enough, nona soon realized that mildred had no idea of keeping her engagement. she was far too deeply engrossed in her new companion. it was annoying, this eternal feminine habit of choosing any kind of masculine society in preference to the most agreeable feminine! however, nona made no sign or protest. she merely betook herself to the opposite side of the boat and started a solitary stroll.
there was no one to interfere and she was virtually alone, as this happened to be the windy, disagreeable portion of the deck. of their meeting with mrs. curtis the day before no one had spoken since, but now nona could not help recalling her own impression. she was sorry for her sudden prejudice and more so for her open expression of it.
“i must try and not distrust people,” she thought remorsefully. “suspicion made my father’s life bitter and shut me away[73] from other girls. so, should circumstances compel us to meet this mrs. curtis and her son (and one never knows when chance may throw strangers together), why i shall never, never say a word against them.”
nona was looking out toward a curious purple and smoke-colored sunset at the edge of the western sky as she made this resolution. perhaps because the vision before her had somehow suggested the smoke of battle and the strange, dreadful world toward which they were voyaging. eugenia was right. no one of them could dream of what lay ahead.
for a moment she had paused and was standing with one hand resting on the ship’s railing when to her surprise mildred thornton’s voice sounded close beside her.
“nona, i want to introduce mr. curtis,” she began. “we have been trying to find you. oh, i confess i did see you a few moments ago, only i pretended i had not. mr. curtis was telling me something so interesting i did not wish to interrupt him for fear he might not repeat it.”
[74]
mildred’s eyes had darkened with excitement and she was speaking in a hushed voice, although no one appeared to be near.
nona davis extended her hand to the young man. “my name is davis,” she began. “miss thornton forgot to mention it, for although we have known each other but a few days we are already using our first names.”
then she struggled with a sense of distaste. the hand that received hers was large and bony and curiously limp and unresponsive. afterwards nona studied the young fellow’s face. it was difficult to get a vital impression of him when his eyes were so hidden from view, but of one thing she became assured—he was not particularly young.
he was tall and had a fringe of light brown hair around a circular space where the hair was plainly growing thinner. his face was smooth, his mouth irregular and he had a large inquiring nose. indeed, nona decided that the young man suggested a human question mark, although[75] his eyes—and eyes can ask more questions than the tongue—were partly concealed.
“mr. curtis has been a war correspondent before,” mildred went on, showing an enthusiasm that was unusual with her. “he has just returned from the war in mexico and has been telling me of the horrors down there.”
“but i thought,” nona davis replied and then hesitated. what she was thinking was, that mrs. curtis had mentioned her son’s long illness. this may have followed his return; he was not particularly healthy looking. not knowing exactly how to conclude her sentence, she was glad to have mildred whisper:
“mr. curtis says he has secret information that our ship is carrying supplies for the allies. oh, of course we are on an american passenger boat and it sounds incredible, but then nothing is past belief these days.”
nevertheless, the other girl shook her head doubtingly. she was a little annoyed at the expression of entire faith with which mildred gazed upon their latest acquaintance.[76] she wondered if mildred were the type of girl who believed anything because a man told her it was true. odd that she did not feel that way herself, when all her life she had been taught to depend wholly upon masculine judgment. but there were odd stirrings of revolt in the little southern girl of which she was not yet aware. she appeared flowerlike and gentle in her old-fashioned black costume. one would have thought she had no independence of body or mind, but like a flower could be swayed by any wind.
“oh, i don’t expect we are carrying anything except hospital supplies of the same kind your father is sending, mildred,” she answered. then turning apologetically toward the young newspaper man: “i beg your pardon, i didn’t mean to doubt your word, only your information.”
however, brooks curtis was not paying any attention to her. instead he was gazing reproachfully at mildred and at the same time attempting to smile.
“is that the way you keep a secret, miss thornton?” he demanded. “of course,[77] your friend is right. i have no absolute information. who has in these war times? i only wanted you to realize that in case trouble arises you are to count on my mother and me.”
he appeared to make the last remark idly and without emphasis, notwithstanding mildred flushed uneasily.
“you don’t mean that there may be an explosion on shipboard or a danger of that kind,” she expostulated. “it sounds absurd, i know, but i am nervous about the water. i have crossed several times before, but always with my father and brother.”
while she was speaking nona davis had slipped her arm reassuringly inside her new friend’s. “nonsense,” she said quietly. “mr. curtis is trying to tease us.” then deliberately she drew mildred away and commenced their postponed walk. it was just as well, because at this instant mrs. curtis had come on deck to join her son.
a little farther along and nona pressed her delicate cheek against her taller companion’s sleeve. “for heaven’s sake don’t let miss peabody know you are afraid of[78] an accident at sea when you are going into the midst of a world tragedy,” she whispered. “eugenia believes we are hopeless enough as it is. but whenever you are frightened, mildred—and of course we must all be now and then—won’t you confide in me?” nona’s tones and the expression of her golden brown eyes were wistful and appealing.
“you see, it is queer, but i don’t fear what other people do. i have certain foolish terrors of my own that i may tell you of some day. for one thing, i am afraid of ghosts. i don’t exactly believe in them, but i was brought up by an old colored mammy who instilled many of her superstitions into me.”
their conversation ended at this because barbara and eugenia peabody were now walking toward them, both looking distinctly unamiable. it was unfortunate that the two girls should be rooming together. they were most uncongenial, and so far spent few hours in each other’s society without an altercation of some kind.
nona smiled at their approach. “and[79] east is east and west is west, and never the twain shall meet,” she quoted mischievously. then she became sober again because she too had a wholesome awe of the eldest member of their party, and eugenia’s eyes held fire.
some powerful current of electricity must have been at work in that portion of the universe through which the “philadelphia” was ploughing her way that evening.
for as soon as they entered the ship’s dining room the four girls became aware of a tense atmosphere which had never been there before. they chanced to be a few moments late, so that the other voyagers were already seated.
mildred thornton, by special courtesy, was on the captain’s right hand and barbara meade on his left (this attention was a tribute to judge thornton’s position in new york); nona was next mildred and eugenia next barbara.
then on nona davis’ other side sat a beautiful woman of perhaps thirty in whom the four girls were deeply interested. but not because she had been in the least[80] friendly with them, or with any one else aboard ship, not even with captain miller, who was a splendid big irishman, one of the most popular officers in the service, and to whom the red cross girls were already deeply attached.
four days had passed since the “philadelphia” sailed and the voyage was now more than half over. but except that she appeared on the passenger list as “lady dorian,” no one knew anything of the young woman’s identity. her name was english, and yet she did not look english and spoke, when conversation was forced upon her, with a slightly foreign accent, which might be russian, or possibly german. however, she never talked to anyone and only came to the table at dinner time, rarely appearing upon deck and never without her maid.
but tonight as the girls took their places at the dinner table it was evident that lady dorian had been speaking and that her conversation had been upon a subject which captain miller had requested no one mention during the course of the voyage—the war!
[81]
every one of the sixteen persons at the captain’s table looked flushed and excited, mrs. curtis at the farther end was in tears, and an english banker, sir george paxton, who had lately been in washington on public business, appeared in danger of apoplexy.
“what is the trouble, captain?” barbara whispered, as soon as she had half a chance. she was a special favorite of captain miller’s and they had claimed cousinship at once on account of their irish ancestry.
“bombs!” the captain murmured, “not real ones; worse kind, conversational bombs. that curtis fellow started the question of whether the united states had the right to furnish ammunition to the allies. then lady dorian began some kind of peace talk, to which the englishman objected. can’t tell you exactly what it was all about, as i had to try to quiet things down. they may start to blowing up my ship next; this war talk makes sane people turn suddenly crazy.”
a movement made barbara glance across[82] the table. although dinner was only beginning, lady dorian had risen and was leaving.
no wonder the girls admired her appearance. barbara swallowed a little sigh of envy. never, no never, could she hope to go trailing down a long room with all eyes turned upon her, looking so beautiful and cold and distinguished. this was one of the many trials of being small and darting about so quickly and having short hair and big blue eyes like a baby’s. one’s hair could grow, but, alas, not one’s self, after a certain age!
lady dorian was probably about five feet seven, which is presumably the ideal height for a woman, since it is the height of the venus de milo. she had gray eyes with black brows and lashes and dark hair that was turning gray. this was perfectly arranged, parted at the side and in a low coil. tonight she had on a gown of black satin and chiffon. though she wore no jewels there was no other woman present with such an air of wealth and distinction.
the instant she had disappeared, however,[83] mrs. curtis turned to her son, speaking in a voice sufficiently loud to be heard by every one at the captain’s table.
“i don’t believe for a moment that woman’s name is ‘lady dorian.’ she is most certainly not an english woman. even if she is married to an englishman she is undoubtedly pro-german in her sentiments. i shouldn’t be surprised if she is—well, most anything.”
brooks curtis flushed, vainly attempting to silence his mother. evidently she was one of the irrepressible people who would not be silenced. the red cross girls need not have been flattered or annoyed by her attentions. she appeared one of the light-minded women who go about talking to everybody, apparently confiding their own secrets and desiring other confidences in exchange. she seemed to be harmless though trying.
but the captain’s great voice boomed down the length of the table.
“no personalities, please. who is going to tell me the best story before i go back on duty? perhaps miss davis will tell us some negro stories!”
[84]
nona blushed uncomfortably. she was shy at being suddenly made the center of observation, yet she appreciated the captain’s intention.
nevertheless, and in spite of her best efforts, the disagreeable atmosphere in the dining room remained. mrs. curtis was not alone in her suspicion of the vanished woman. there was not another person at the table who did not in a greater or less degree share it. lady dorian was strangely reserved about her history in these troublous war times. then she had been trying to keep her point of view concealed. however, to the red cross girls, or at least to the three younger ones, she was a romantic, fascinating figure. one could easily conceive of her in a tragic role. secretly both barbara and nona decided to try to know her better if this were possible without intrusion.
an hour after dinner and the red cross girls were in bed. there was nothing to do to amuse oneself, as the lights must be extinguished by half-past eight o’clock. the captain meant to take no risks of over-zealous german cruisers or submarines.
