“I—I think I’ll go up on deck now,” she faltered.
Mr. Powers naturally went with her. He settled her in her deck chair and sat down beside her, and for a long time there was silence.
“Look here!” he said at last. “I’m sorry to see you so upset, Miss Smith; but these people—these Pattersons—can’t be so unreasonable as—”
“Oh, it’s not that!” said she, in a sort of despair. “Only—”
He waited, looking at her face, which had suddenly grown so pale.
“I wish you’d tell me,” he said at length. “I know I’m a stranger to you, but—” He paused. “My aunt’s down there, you know,” he went on. “She might be able to—to advise you.”
Advice! What good would that do? Miss Smith was obliged to live on a strange island from Monday until Saturday on two quarters. She shook her head mutely. She couldn’t talk. She wished Mr. Powers would go away and leave her alone, to think.
After a while, he did. He saw he wasn’t wanted, and he went; but then it was worse than ever.
At half past twelve he came back.
“Won’t you come down to lunch?” he asked.