"Oh, my blessed baby!" said Mrs. Price, as the nurse handed her the child—which, however, she immediately handed back. "How can I thank you enough, Mr. Wilkinson? What should we have done without you? I wonder whether it's near tiffin. I am so faint."
"Shall I fetch you anything?" said he.
"If you could get me a glass of porter. But I don't think they'll give it you. They are so uncivil!"
Arthur went for the beer; but went in vain. The steward said that lunch would be ready at twelve o'clock.
"They are such brutes!" said Mrs. Price. "Well, I suppose I must wait." And she again turned her eyes upon Arthur, and he again thought of Adela Gauntlet.
And then there was the ordinary confusion of a starting ship. Men and women were hurrying about after their luggage, asking all manner of unreasonable questions. Ladies were complaining of their berths, and servants asking where on hearth they were to sleep. Gentlemen were swearing that they had been shamefully doubled up—that is, made to lie with two or three men in the same cabin; and friends were contriving to get commodious seats for dinner. The officers of the ship were all busy, treating with apparent indifference the thousand questions that were asked them on every side; and all was bustle, confusion, hurry, and noise.
And then they were off. The pistons of the engine moved slowly up and down, the huge cranks revolved, and the waters under the bow rippled and gave way. They were off, and the business of the voyage commenced. The younger people prepared for their flirtations, the mothers unpacked their children's clothes, and the elderly gentlemen lighted their cigars.
"What very queer women they are!" said Arthur, walking the deck with his cousin.
"But very pretty, and very agreeable. I like them both."
"Don't you think them too free and easy?"