"And if the wheel breaks in the side of the steamer—That is feared, is it not?"
"Yes. Then we should have, probably, to take to the boats."
"Would the boats live in this sea?" asked Evelyn.
"That is the question."
A faint smile came to her lips, drawn there by something in Jem's look.
"Jean must be your first care," she said.
"None can be my care before you! Jean too of course. If we take to the boats, we will keep together—all three of us."
"But if you could not save us both—Jean must be first. She is so young. And for Cyril's sake!" urged Evelyn. "It does not matter so much for me. I have had my life, you know . . . And sometimes I think—One would not wish to choose; but going Home early would solve many difficulties. If it were God's will for me, I mean. I don't think I have been so very happy."
"Ought you not to have been?"
"Why—'ought'? I am so alone—for years past, always alone. People seem to think money is all one needs; but I care little for wealth. If you knew how little! It is only a burden . . . I should like to thank you now for what you said to me, one day lately—the day we met and had a talk. It opened my eyes to a good deal. If we get through this, I am resolved to live a different life—not for myself any more. So many need helping; and I should like to help them. I will find some work to do."