Littleson became a trifle grave. He was not a bad sort of a fellow, and Virginia seemed little more than a charming child as she stood in the passage, looking up at him with appealing eyes and slightly parted lips.
"Do you mean," he asked, "that you have run away from your uncle?"
"Not exactly that," she answered. "My uncle was quite willing to have me leave him, but he does not know exactly where I am, nor do my people. Will you keep my secret, please?"
"Certainly!" he answered.
"From every one on board, as well as from your letters if you write from
Queenstown?"
"Well, I'll try to do as you say," he answered, "but I should like to have a talk with you before we land."
He went to his stateroom a little thoughtfully. It had not yet occurred to him that Virginia's errand to London and his might possibly have something in common.
CHAPTER II
REFLECTIONS
Littleson, before many hours of their voyage had passed, became conscious that Virginia was showing a slight but unmistakable desire to avoid his society. Being a Harvard graduate, something of an athlete, and a young man of fashion and popularity, he did not for a moment entertain the idea that there could be anything personal in her feeling. He came to the conclusion, therefore, that she had either discovered his connection with Stella's behaviour, or that the object of her visit to Europe was one that she desired to conceal from him. On the afternoon of the day when he had received his first but distinct snub, he made a point of drawing his chair over to hers.