As she met his glance, he saw how bright her eyes were. She had thrown a wrap about her and drawn the hood over her head. Against it, her face looked very white.
"I think you may call me Kasia," she said softly. "You see, I need a friend, and I should hate to have a friend call me anything else. No," she added, as he started to say something, "I shall continue to call you Mr. Webster—that is not quite the same thing. And I am sorry I startled you."
"It was because I was thinking of you. I have been thinking of you all day. I tried to go to you, just now. I had something to tell you. But the guard at the ladder stopped me."
He looked around to make sure that there was no one near.
"He didn't stop me," she said.
"No; first-class passengers have the run of the ship. How does it happen that you are first-class, Kasia?"
It was the first time that he had used the word with intention, and his voice trembled a little over it.
She told him rapidly of the odour which had suddenly developed in her former stateroom, and how the ship's people had finally been compelled to transfer her and her father to the first-cabin.
"Oh, to quite sumptuous quarters," she went on; "you should see them. Two bedrooms and a sitting-room and bath—an imperial suite. There are no places left at the tables, so our meals are served in our sitting-room, as though we were royalties. I'm afraid our tips will have to be something enormous! I can't but feel that the steamship company is getting very much the worst of it. Both father and I offered to continue eating second-class, but the Captain wouldn't hear of it. He seems to think, poor man, that the odour has disgraced his boat. He was quite humble about it!"
Dan breathed a deep sigh of relief.