In the cabin opposite, Muriel, likewise, sat upon the edge of her bed. She had been crying, and there were still tears in her eyes. Surely, she thought, this must be love that had come to her, though sudden and unexpected had been its advent. She was profoundly stirred, and wonderingly she recalled every moment of the experience through which she had just passed. It had been so sweet; his eyes had looked into hers so tenderly; his lips had aroused something so mighty within her. Of course she would marry him if he asked her; but she was so selfish, so stupid, and he was so clever. Everybody loved him: perhaps he would quickly grow tired of her....
At tea-time she could not look at him. She talked at random to the others, and as they all sat afterwards on deck watching the sun go down, she still kept aloof from him. Later, in dressing for dinner, she exacted particular care from her maid; and she was thankful that she had brought her most becoming dress with her.
“My dear, you look a dream!” exclaimed Kate Bindane as she came into the dining-room. “A dam’ sight too beautiful for my liking! I’ll have to keep my old man out of your way, or you’ll make him feel all of a twitter. As it is, I see him eyeing you all the time. He’s a dark horse, is Benifett: you never know what he’s up to.”
And certainly during dinner his watery eyes were fixed upon her from time to time with disconcerting directness. A glass or two of champagne helped her to overcome a feeling of shyness in relation to Rupert, and soon she became conscious of a growing excitement. She wondered what would happen before the evening was over, and alternately she longed for the meal to come to an end, and was dismayed to find it advancing so quickly. She talked feverishly, and, indeed, Lady Smith-Evered once felt it her duty to make signs to the butler to refrain from filling the girl’s glass. Muriel, however, observed the signal, and laughed aloud.
“Am I talking too fast or something?” she asked, holding up her empty glass to the hesitating butler.
“No, it’s only that wine is not very good for one in this climate,” whispered Lady Smith-Evered, her expression hinting at strange things.
“It can’t hurt her,” said Mr. Bindane, yet he drank only water himself.
As they went up on deck for their coffee, Muriel felt her face burning and her heart thumping; and when Rupert stood at her side and surreptitiously touched her hand she experienced so wondrous a thrill of emotion that she forgot what she was saying at the moment to Professor Hyley, and their conversation—something about ancient Egyptian gods—completely broke down.
Owing to some engine-trouble earlier in the day the steamer had not nearly reached its destination; and now, for the sake of the passengers’ comfort, it was travelling quietly and at a much reduced pace. The night was warm, windless, and intensely dark, for the waning moon had not yet risen; but the stars were brilliant, and the Milky Way stretched across the heavens like a band of ghostly silver.
As soon as the coffee cups were removed Mr. Bindane proposed the inevitable game of bridge, and therewith their host and hostess, Lady Smith-Evered, and the Professor descended to the saloon, Muriel and Rupert remaining on deck—by the tacit and tactful arrangement of Kate Bindane, who seemed to anticipate their inclinations.