'Harm? No! Don't you understand? Mrs. Rushmore is quite capable of thinking that I have already—how shall I say?——' she stopped.
'Taken note of her good advice,' he said, completing the sentence for her.
'Exactly! Whereas nothing could be further from [{180}] my intention, as you know. I'm very fond of Mrs. Rushmore,' Margaret continued quickly, in order to get away from the dangerous subject she had felt obliged to approach; 'she has been a mother to me, and heaven knows I needed one, and she has the best and kindest heart in the world. But she is so anxious for my happiness that, whenever she thinks it is at stake, she rushes at conclusions without the slightest reason, and then it's very hard to get them out of her dear old head!'
'I see. If that's why she thinks me perfection, I'll try not to disappoint her.'
They reached the hotel, went upstairs, and separated on the landing to get ready for supper. Margaret went to her own room, and before joining Mrs. Rushmore she wrote a message to Alphonsine, her theatre maid, who was visiting her family in Alsatia. Margaret generally telegraphed her instructions, because it was much less trouble than to write. She inquired whether Alphonsine would be ready to join her in Paris on a certain day, and she asked for the address of a wig-maker which she had forgotten.
On his side of the landing, Mr. Van Torp found Stemp waiting to dress him, and the valet handed him a telegram. It was from Captain Brown, and had been re-telegraphed from London.
'Anchored off Saint Mark's Square to-day, 3.30 P.M. Quick passage. No stop. Coaling to-morrow. Ready for sea next morning.'
Mr. Van Torp laid the message open on the table in [{181}] order to save Stemp the trouble of looking for it afterwards.
'Stemp,' he asked, as he threw off his coat and kicked off his dusty shoes, 'were you ever sea-sick?'
'Yes, sir,' answered the admirable valet, but he offered no more information on the subject.