“Lady Phyllis! Oh!”
CHAPTER XIII—CHIMERAS DIRE
“Qu’allait-il faire dans cette galère?”
French Comedy.
Vera’s first thorough awakening the next morning was to hear outside the door, “Are you up, Fly?”
“I shall be in a minute or two. Do you want me?”
“You are a dab at parlez-vous. I want you to come ashore with me and cater for the starving crew.”
“What fun! Anon, anon, Sir!”
Vera then perceived that she had been bestowed in Lady Phyllis’ cabin, and that the proper owner was dressing herself in haste before the little shelf of a toilette table. So great had been the confusion of last night’s discovery that the poor silly child had only thought of hurrying out of sight and tumbling into bed without speaking to any one, and she had not distinctly known, when Lady Phyllis came down a good deal later and disposed of herself on the sofa, that Mrs. Griggs had made ready for her. And now the only thing she could think of was to say, “Oh! Lady Phyllis, I didn’t know.”
“Take care! Don’t knock your head! We ought to have remembered that Boreas, or whichever it was, was hardly a sufficient introduction. Are you all right now? You had better go to sleep again till I bring something to eat. We are lying to off some little Breton fishing village, and I am going with my brother to get some provisions, and telegraph if we can.”
It was long before they came back. Vera had another nap, dressed herself, grew very hungry, and came out to find Lord Rotherwood fishing, and his daughter-in-law watching for the boat to put out from the white houses with grey roofs, which, clustered round their church-tower, seemed descending to the water’s edge. They were equally famished, though Mrs. Griggs stewed up the poor remnants of last night’s banquet; but at last the little boat appeared, gaily dancing over the waves, and Phyllis making signals of success.