When Mrs. De Wolfe and her young friend parted that night in their mutual passage, she said:
"I intend to take you in hand, Miss Nancy Travers. I shall not allow you to sit idle in the market-place, eating your heart out. To-morrow I'll give you some knitting, and teach you to play Piquet and Patience. You can look upon me as your deputy chaperone."
As deputy chaperone, she took entire charge of Nancy—who felt powerless to resist—the girl interested her surprisingly. When she forgot herself, she could talk, she could sew, she could even smile! By the time the Patna was in the Canal, Nancy was better. The sea-air revived her; her new acquaintance acted as a tonic, kept her incessantly occupied, promenaded the deck with her, told her stories, gave her sound advice, and from being a mere crumpled heap of hopeless misery lifted her once more to a foothold in life.
It had been discovered that the "Ghost," as she was called, was an excellent pianist, and consequently much in request to accompany song or violin. This demand brought her into communication with other young people—which was good for Nancy.
Mrs. Sandilands was amazed at the acquaintance which had been struck up between two such incongruous characters as Mrs. De Wolfe, and the Travers girl. What had they in common? However it came about, the old woman had effected a wonderful change, and as it were restored the Ghost to life, and the material world. She now went to and fro and mixed with other people, and no longer spent hours shut up in her little cabin.
When the Patna was in the Channel, Mrs. De Wolfe said to her protégée:
"Do not forget to give me your address, my dear, and I will come and see you."
"That will be very kind."
"I stay in London occasionally, but my home is in the country,—also in the wide world—for I travel a great deal. Excuse my plain speaking, my dear, but have you no income at all? I understand that your father was a Travers of Lambourne, and I believe they went through every penny they possessed?"
"I have twenty pounds a year," replied Nancy, "and I have had a good education; but I'm afraid I look too young to be a governess. If the worst comes to the worst, I might go into a shop. I think I'd rather like that—millinery, or a ladies' outfitting—a sort of place where there are no men."