“No, we shall all remain aboard.”
He departed mournfully enough, seeing that the ferry boat now was coming across with the railway train. I continued my own moody pacing up and down the deck. Truth was, I had not seen Helena for more than twenty-four hours, nor had any word come from the ladies’ cabin to give me hope I ever would see her again of her own will. My surprise, therefore, was great enough when I heard the after cabin door close gently as she came out upon the deck.
When last I saw her she had been in tears. Now she was all smiles and radiant as the dawn! Her gown, moreover, was one I had never seen before, and she, herself, seemed monstrous pleased with it, for, by some miracle, fresh as though from the hands of her maid at home, she knew herself fair and fit enough to make more trouble for mankind.
“Good morning,” said she, casually, as though we had parted but lately and that conventionally. “Isn’t it fine?”
“It is a beautiful picture,” said I, “and you fit into it. I am glad to see you looking so well.”
“I wish I could say as much for you,” said she. “You look like a forlorn hope.”
“I am nothing better.”
“And as though you had not slept.”
“I have not, Helena.”
“Why not?” her eyes wide open in surprise.