They stopped short and discovered Mrs. Blake ensconced in a cozy corner, sheltered from the wind.
"Why, aunt Milly," exclaimed Shirley surprised. "I thought you were downstairs. I didn't think you could stand this sea."
"It is a little rougher than I care to have it," responded Mrs. Blake with a wry grimace and putting her hand to her breast as if to appease disturbing qualms. "It was so stuffy in the cabin I could not bear it. It's more pleasant here but it's getting a little cool and I think I'll go below. Where have you children been all afternoon?"
Jefferson volunteered to explain.
"The children have been rhapsodizing over the beauties of the ocean," he laughed. With a sly glance at Shirley, he added, "Your niece has been coaching me in metaphysics."
Shirley shook her finger at him.
"Now Jefferson, if you make fun of me I'll never talk seriously with you again."
"Wie geht es, meine damen?"
Shirley turned on hearing the guttural salutation. It was Captain Hegermann, the commander of the ship, a big florid Saxon with great bushy golden whiskers and a basso voice like Edouard de Reszke. He was imposing in his smart uniform and gold braid and his manner had the self-reliant, authoritative air usual in men who have great responsibilities and are accustomed to command. He was taking his afternoon stroll and had stopped to chat with his lady passengers. He had already passed Mrs. Blake a dozen times and not noticed her, but now her pretty niece was with her, which altered the situation. He talked to the aunt and looked at Shirley, much to the annoyance of Jefferson, who muttered things under his breath.
"When shall we be in, captain?" asked Mrs. Blake anxiously, forgetting that this was one of the questions which according to ship etiquette must never be asked of the officers.