“You may escape them,” said Beth, kindly. When Cynthia looked back at the dragging boat, she added hastily: “Oh, not by that means. There must be a less perilous way.”
Without any thought of the possible consequences, Beth had given her heart and hand to the strange girl’s cause. It meant little to her that this girl had run away from some public institution. She did not stop to ask why she had run away.
“How, I’d like you to tell me?” said Cynthia.
“Surely those who look for you will not arouse the passengers and make a disturbance in the middle of the night? We don’t get to Marbury till midnight, I understand.”
“That’s right.”
“Then,” said the generous Beth, “why not come to my stateroom?”
“Yours? Why! you don’t know me,” said the other girl, rather astounded.
“Surely, we’ve just introduced ourselves,” laughed Beth. “I am alone in my stateroom. There are two berths. They’ll never look for you there.”
“Oh, my aunt!” ejaculated Cynthia Fogg, with such sudden animation, that her strange eyes sparkled again. “That would be great!”
Beth thought the girl an odd combination of characteristics. One moment she was morose; the next she brightened up and was all life and gaiety. But the girl from Hudsonvale was bent only on helping Cynthia.