"I've only known her a few days. Isn't that rather soon?"
"Not a bit, women like to be taken by storm," wisely remarked Pat, who was just out of the nursery, and fancied he knew the sex--Heaven help him--"go in, and win, my boy."
"By Jove I will," said Ronald, eagerly, and then fell to thinking what his father would say to the marriage. He didn't know who the young lady was--what she was--knew nothing about her family, and yet--and yet, he adored her. Why shouldn't he marry her? He was his own master, and if his father cut him off with a shilling, he could work--she was worth working for--yes, he would ask her to marry him--of course she would say yes--for it never entered this confident young man's head that women sometimes say "No." So Master Ronald went on building castles in the air, all inhabited by himself and Mrs. Monteith--no hang it, not yet--the girl from Malta.
He was aroused from these golden visions by a touch on his arm, and turning round, saw his special dislike, the Marchese Vassalla, looking at him. The Marchese detested Monteith, both for his good looks, and for the evident regard Miss Cotoner had for him. He would like to have dropped his rival over the side along with poor Ventin's body, but as he couldn't do this, he was excessively polite, and watched for an opportunity to do him an injury. Here was a chance now, and the wily Maltese took full advantage of it. He overheard the conversation between Pat and Monteith, so determined to dash all Ronald's hopes to the ground, by telling him that Carmela was engaged. To this end the serpent came into Ronald's paradise, and smiling, invited him not to have an apple, but a drink. The young man would have refused, but then he thought he might learn something about Carmela, and after all, the Marchese was her cousin, so he consented, and went down to the bar with the smiling Maltese gentleman.
As it was about eleven o'clock, they found the bar surrounded by thirsty souls having cocktails. In fact, there was a "Cocktail Club" on board, and it was a very popular drink with the young men, particularly if they had been up late the night before. Cocktails therefore, being the prevailing beverage, the Marchese and his victim each had one, and then the former gentleman opened the campaign.
"I shall be sorry when this voyage is over," he said, carelessly.
"So shall I," replied Monteith, thinking of the chances of meeting Carmela in London. "But I daresay I'll meet Miss--I mean you again."
"I don't think so," said Vassalla, coldly. "Myself and my cousin only stay a few days in London, and then go down to some friends in the country."
"Oh!" said Ronald, and looked blank.
"And then," pursued his tormentor, eyeing him mercilessly, "I am coming back to London to arrange about our marriage."