“Is that a night-dress?” he inquired curiously.
“No, cousin, it’s a tea-gown.”
“Oh!”
He stood still beside her.
“They told me a funny thing at the steamship office this morning,” he said, after a while; “the man says that there’s never a steamer sails but that some one who has made their last payment down is obliged for some reason to stay behind.”
“Do they give them back their money?” she asked, trying to appear interested.
“Yes; and they always fill the room either at Naples or Gibraltar.”
“Why don’t you sit down?” she asked at last.
“Where’s Ottillie?” he said, without seeming to notice her question.