She went to the telephone and asked to be connected with Mrs. Quale's room. The reply she received caused her a veritable shock.
"Mrs. Quale came in a while ago and then went out again, saying she would be away over night in New York."
Patricia hung up the receiver and sat down in the nearest chair with a little, frightened shiver. She would be alone over night, in this big, strange hotel, surrounded perhaps by unseen and unknown enemies. Oh, if she could only communicate with her father and urge him to come back at once! But that was not possible. He had said he was in New York, but had given no address, probably because he was hurrying about from place to place and did not intend to stop anywhere for the night. It was certainly unfortunate that Mrs. Quale had elected to be away at the same time. Well, it was too bad, but it was not fatal. In all probability, nothing unforeseen of any kind would happen. There was no reason why it should.
Suddenly a bright idea came to her. If Mrs. Quale's maid, Delia, had not accompanied her mistress to New York, why would it not be possible to ask her to come down and spend the night? Her companionship would be better than none at all. In the long weeks of her intimacy with Mrs. Quale, Patricia had grown to realize that Delia was becoming rather fond of her, in her queer, taciturn way, and would probably be glad to be of any help. She decided to go upstairs now to see her and talk it over.
Her interview proved rather a difficult one. Patricia had not Mrs. Quale's ease in communicating with a deaf person, and it was some time before Delia understood what she was driving at. And even when she did, there was hesitancy.
"I've a bad earache to-night," she averred, "that's why Mrs. Quale didn't take me with her. I have it quite often. I'm afraid I won't be much company for you, Miss Patricia, and I wanted to go to bed pretty early."
"Oh, I'm not going to stay up late!" cried Patricia, "and, of course, you can have Father's room. I just want you to be there near me. Father would be dreadfully upset if he thought I was here alone."
"Very well, then," Delia consented at last. "To be sure, I wouldn't have you worried, nor the captain worried about you, even if I am too miserable to hold up my head. I'll be down at half past eight. I've things that will keep me busy till then."
After that, Patricia decided to worry no further about the matter, dress for dinner, go down to the dining-room, and take her meal as if she expected her father at any minute. After that, she would read and sew and write some letters and go to bed as usual. The sensible resolve steadied her. She put on her lightest and coolest attire, for the evening was still very hot, and at a very early hour went down to the dining-room. She wanted to have this ordeal over as speedily as possible, for she dreaded sitting at her table alone and being waited on by Peter Stoger.
To her intense surprise, he was not there. She was served by another waiter, and Peter did not appear during the entire meal. Where in the world could he be? She ventured to question the new attendant about the usual waiter, but received only the reply that he was away for the day. It was certainly all very mystifying.