Helène looked on aghast and could make no answer. Miss Fisher had told her she was “some shopper,” and she had certainly not exaggerated. The way she made the clerks skip about sent the cold shivers down Helène’s spine. By dusk every article had been arranged for, and there was now nothing to do but wait until the next morning’s train, which would take them to Bremen.
As this was to be the last evening before sailing, Miss Fisher proposed a “blow-out.” They’d have dinner together and go to the opera. With Miss Fisher, to propose was to act. The dinner was most enjoyable, and the opera, “Romeo and Julietta,” neither of them had ever heard, so that they had, as Miss Fisher put it afterwards, “the time of their life.”
As they parted for the night, they decided to pay a visit to the park in the morning and have luncheon in the restaurant there, for old time’s sake, before taking the train.
The day opened cold and blustering. But Margaret saw in it a good omen. “Leave in rain and arrive in sunshine,” she quoted from some hidden recess in the treasury of her knowledge. But it didn’t prevent them shivering in the park.
“Wait until we get to New York. That’s the place for sunshine, if you like. And not only sunshine, my dear Helène, but a sunny life.”
To Helène, Bremen was a most bewildering place. If it had not been for Margaret she would never have known where to go or what to do first. But Margaret knew everything. She saw that the tickets were correct, saw to the tickets for the dock at Bremerhaven, had their baggage carefully labeled and checked and wound up at the big steamer as fresh as when they had left Hanover. Immediately they boarded the vessel Margaret saw to the stateroom, found out which side of the ship was the sunny side and had their deck chairs marked and placed there. She saw the chief steward and arranged with him for good seats at the dining table; she found the stewardess who was assigned to their cabin and came to a satisfactory understanding with her also.
“You see, my dear Helène,” she explained to the now utterly bewildered girl, “we’re going to live on this boat for eight days. We’d better be comfortable while we are here. We might be good sailors, and then we might not. You never know. So it’s best to be on the safe side. If either of us get seasick now, that stewardess will look after us.”
The great foghorn sent out a roaring sound that seemed to Helène loud enough for the whole world to hear. Clumsily, at first, the big ship moved, and then, as she gathered headway, steamed out into the gray expanse of the seeming boundless sea. Helène gazed with bated breath and beating heart at the fast receding land. There was no turning back now. She had indeed burned her bridges. How would she fare in this new land to which she was sailing?
A strong arm slipped round her waist and a warm hand clasped hers in a firm, motherly grip. Margaret had seen the expression on the poor girl’s face and had come to give her comfort.
“Have no fear, dear, all will be well.”