CHAPTER XV
A FRIEND IN NEED
Thanks to Mrs. Ffinch's promise and her prompt exertions, within a week's time Nancy found herself in the Madras roads, on board the P. & O. steamer Patna, bound for London. The Patna was a full boat, carrying a mixed multitude of cheerful passengers. Among these was Blanche Sandilands (née Meach), a remarkably pretty woman in exuberant spirits,—embarking on her first trip to England in the character of a rich, popular, much admired young matron. Her cabin was crammed with flowers and books, friends to bid her good-bye were assembled in flattering numbers, and among these, she anxiously looked about for her charge.
Yes, there was that invaluable Mrs. Ffinch,—and could it be Nancy Travers? Nancy, so altered as to be almost unrecognizable. The bright school-girl, she remembered, as just out from England, brimming over with happiness, and gaiety, was now a wan white creature in deep mourning, with sad abstracted eyes. Thank goodness, they were not sharing the same cabin, or she would certainly be flooded out with tears! What, she asked herself, could she do with her? Mrs. Sandilands had been looking forward to such a ripping time on the voyage: the Bruffs, and the Colvilles, Captain Yates and Mr. Orme, were on board, but there would not be much fun for her, if all day long she was tied to such a wet blanket as this poor child—who appeared to be actually stupefied with grief.
To her immense relief, the lively lady soon discovered that Nancy Travers would be no encumbrance. It was true that she sat beside her at meals (nobly representing the traditional death's head), but otherwise effaced herself, seeming to prefer solitude, and her own company, sitting aloof with a book, or disappearing for hours into her nook of a cabin in the stern.
Mrs. Sandilands lent her novels, offered her chocolates, and little toilet luxuries, kissed her perfunctorily night and morning, and left her to herself,—assuring her friends, that such was the truest kindness, and went her own light-hearted way to play deck games, and Bridge; or to embark on such amusing and harmless flirtations, as are expected of the prettiest woman on the ship.
At Colombo the passengers went bodily ashore, and enjoyed the few gay hours at the Galle Face Hotel, explored the bazaars, or darted off in rickshaws to inspect the Cinnamon gardens. With their return at dinner time, they brought a horde of new comers,—tourists, planters, and their belongings.
Among the crowd, one figure was conspicuously prominent, and proceeded at once to dominate the ship.
"Yet after all, what was Mrs. De Wolfe?" asked a girl plaintively, "but an ugly, rude, old woman?"
The lady appeared to know several of the passengers, and to be a sea friend of the captain's; for a special place had been reserved at his table, also she enjoyed a large double cabin, and was attended by a hard-featured, but dignified maid.