CHAPTER XIII
An Incident on Shipboard
Among the passengers on one of the most magnificent of ocean steamers that crossed the Atlantic during the summer of which I have made mention, was a famous prima donna coming to the United States to fulfil a contract which would net her many thousand dollars. This notable artist who possessed a most winning personality as well as great beauty was easily the most popular passenger aboard the steamer on that memorable trip across the ocean.
One evening this lady was strolling over the promenade deck under the escort of her brother. The night was unusually calm, with a bright moon in the sky. The mighty throbbing structure glided over the sleeping billows as across a millpond, and all were in fine spirits, for they were nearing home, and that dreadful affliction mal de mer had troubled only the abnormally sensitive. Neither the brother nor the prima donna had felt the slightest effects.
The two were chatting of many things, but nothing of any importance, when she suddenly stopped with an exclamation of surprise.
“Listen!” she added when they had stood motionless for a few seconds; “do you hear that?”
“I do; it is wonderful.”
It was the voice of some one singing “Mavourneen,” that sweet Irish melody which has charmed and will always charm thousands. It came from the second class section, which was separated from the first by two gates. These marked the “impassable chasm,” so far as the less favored were concerned, though of course the first class passengers were free to wander whither they chose.
The lady and gentleman walked to the barrier and looked across.
“There he is!” said the man, in a low tone.