"But how should Mrs. Campbell know, papa?"
"Because she was pacing the deck herself, or sitting in a corner. I saw her under a smokestack with that Russian—no fit companion either. Had to leave his own country because of his record. She's a nice one to talk—but that's the very kind. Now, see here! After this you girls keep close company, and stay in tow of Mrs. Vanderhoff, or Lady Moreham, and then you'll be all right. You'll mind now?"
"Yes we will, father, but tell me something. Did you know Lady Moreham before this trip? I thought—" He turned a quizzical look upon Hope's eager face, and laughed a little.
"Better think more about things that concern yourself, little one, and not be speculating about my passengers, or you'll get to be another Mrs. Campbell," and, kissing both girls, he gently seated Faith in his large chair and hurried out.
CHAPTER XI.
A SUNDAY AT SEA.
There is something in a Sunday at sea, in calm weather which must impress the most thoughtless. The clean, well-regulated ship seems to take on an air of extra self-respect, the men, in fresh attire, go more quietly about their duties, the well-dressed passengers are less noisy and demonstrative, even the steerage puts on a slightly brighter look on Sunday morning, and for the time being the seeming calmness and content give one a delightful sense of rest.
Captain Hosmer, like most good sailors, had a deep reverence for his Maker, and for that religion, "pure and undefiled," which inspiration teaches. No one living the precarious life of the seaman can well help an abiding sense of personal dependence upon some Power greater than the most furious forces of the deep, and when this dependence becomes childlike and sincere, rather than a mere superstition born of terror, it gives a man that spirit Christ so lovingly inculcated, in which the soul rests, secure and still, within the bosom of the Father.
Though Captain Hosmer had some of the roughnesses born of an adventurous life, he was at heart a sincere believer, and in joy or danger turned instinctively to his Maker in gratitude, or supplication. Though not brought up an Episcopalian, he followed the practice customary on board British vessels, and held service, reading from the Prayer-book every Sunday morning.
To-day, the passengers gathered in the handsome saloon were glad to see the doors flung wide and the punkahs vigorously waving, for it was very warm. Scarcely a person was absent; even Mr. Allyne, looking a bit pale and reserved, sat back in one corner, half screened by his companion, and near the open doors and windows, clustered the servants and such part of the crew as were off duty, their dark faces and turbaned heads forming an artistic contrast to the whiter-skinned race who sat within.