She sat where she was for another very long half hour. Then she washed her hands, straightened her hat, and set forth, rather timidly. She felt that the Pattersons were keeping away from her in order to show their disapproval, and she didn’t altogether blame them.
That apologetic look, that little shadow of a doubtful smile, were singularly becoming to her. What is more, the damp air had made her hair curl quite riotously, and the glow of her recent excitement still lingered on her face. Mr. Powers saw her standing there, looking anxiously about the dining saloon, and he thought he had never seen such a pretty little thing.
III
The fog had closed round them. The engines stopped, and the ship wallowed helplessly in a heavy sea. The great whistle blew warningly, threateningly, but nothing answered. The engines started up again, and the ship moved forward slowly. The captain was maneuvering very cautiously against this worst of all sea enemies.
The passengers, thought Mr. Powers, were as unconcerned as so many babies in a huge perambulator. There they sat, wrapped up in their steamer chairs, reading, or talking, or flirting, or disapproving of flirting, trusting absolutely to that unseen captain. Mr. Powers had traveled so much that he knew that things could happen. He was not apprehensive or nervous, for that was not his nature; but he was alert and interested. He lay back in his own deck chair, his soft hat pulled well down, and under it his dark eyes stared thoughtfully before him at the impenetrable fog. People tramped past him, but he took only a mild interest in them until—
“Again!” he said to himself. “What on earth is that girl doing?”
By “that girl” he meant Miss Smith, who had just hurried by like a leaf in the wind, her face pale and anxious. It was the third time she had hurried by like that, and he felt quite sure that she was not walking for amusement or health. Evidently she was troubled—very much troubled; and Mr. Powers, instead of telling himself that it was none of his business, wanted to help her.[Pg 238]
That little figure hastening through the rainy dusk, so pale and troubled, made a strong appeal to his imagination. He did not make light of other people’s difficulties, and was not afraid to meddle in other people’s affairs, either, if he thought he could be of any use. He was not a very cautious or prudent young man, anyhow. He felt thoroughly at home in this world, and on excellent terms with his fellow creatures, and was not at all shy or awkward with them. He was waiting for a chance to speak to this young woman, and it came.
Miss Smith did not appear for some time. Before she passed Mr. Powers again, she had climbed to the upper deck, and had got thoroughly wet and chilled. She was thoroughly disheartened, too, so that there were tears in her eyes, and she couldn’t see very well. In consequence, she stumbled against an empty deck chair.
“Oh! Excuse me!” she said, to nobody at all, and crossed hastily to the rail, ostensibly to look out over it, but really to dry her eyes.