Annie saw and understood the change, and her heart was chilled by a sense of loneliness and isolation greater than if the stormy Atlantic had rolled between them. And yet his manner toward her was very gentle, very considerate.
He took charge of Miss Eulie, and soon they were at the best hotel in the place. The advent of the survivors caused great excitement in the city, and they were all overwhelmed with kindness and sympathy.
After a few hours Gregory returned to the hotel, dressed in quiet elegance, and he seemed to Annie the very ideal of manhood; while she, in her mourning robes, seemed to him the perfection of womankind. But their manner toward each other was very quiet, and only Miss Eulie guessed the subterranean fires that were burning in each heart.
"Are you sure that you will be perfectly comfortable here?" he asked.
"Entirely so," Annie replied. "Mr. Hunting has telegraphed to my uncle, and we will await him here. I do not feel quite strong enough to travel yet."
"Then I can leave you for a day or two with a quiet mind. I must go to
Liverpool."
She turned a shade paler, but only said, "I am very sorry you must leave us so soon."
"I missed a note from your Bible," he said, in a low tone.
"Forgive me! I destroyed it," and she turned and walked to the window to hide her burning face.
Just then Hunting entered, and a few moments later Gregory bade them a quiet farewell.