"Will you tell me what ills you were enduring in England?" he asked.
"I—I was living with relatives," she faltered, "and——"
"Were they unkind to you?"
"They didn't mean to be," acknowledged Jane. "I can see that now. But I fancied—I thought I should be happier if I were independent. So I——"
"You fell into trouble as soon as you stepped out of the safe shelter of your home," he finished for her. "You are right in thinking that you should never have come, and yet— Now won't you allow me to—advance the money for your passage? I assure you I shall be very businesslike about it. I shall expect you to return every penny of it. For I"—he paused to smile half humorously to himself—"I am a poor young man, Jane, and I have to work for my living."
She looked up into the strong, kind face he bent toward her. "I—thank you," she said slowly, "and I beg your pardon, too. I see now that you are—that you meant to be my friend."
"And you will accept my friendship?" he asked eagerly. "You will allow me to help you to return to England?"
She shook her head. "I could have borrowed the money from Bertha Forbes, if I had chosen to do it," she said. "She wanted to send me back at once. But"—with an obstinate tightening of her pretty lips—"I thought since I had gotten myself into this absurd plight by my own foolishness I ought to get myself out of it. And that is why I am working for wages in your sister's house. I shall soon have earned money enough to go home by second cabin; but I don't mind how I go, if only I go!"
Her eyes wandered away to the dim blue horizon which lay beyond "The Hook," and he saw her sensitive mouth quiver.
"Do you know you're showing a whole lot of splendid grit," he murmured appreciatively. "I know just how you feel."