“Oh, are you sure? Are you sure?” panted Blanche, catching at his sleeve.
“Yes,” he answered. “Can I do anything for you?” he said to Bettina, who was on the point of speaking.
“Will you be good enough to help me to assist Mrs. Worthington into her berth, and then try to find the doctor.”
He went into the next room without speaking. To Mrs. Worthington he spoke briefly a few words of reassurance. He was a powerful man, and laid her on her berth without dragging her about uncomfortably, or making her feel that her weight was greater than even in her most desponding moments she had suspected. Even her helplessly hysteric mood was illuminated by a ray of grateful appreciation.
“Oh, thank you—thank you,” she murmured. “And you are quite sure there is no actual danger, Mr.——?”
“Salter,” he terminated for her. “You may feel safe. The damage is really only slight, after all.”
“It is so good of you to come and tell us,” said the poor lady, still tremulous. “The shock was awful. Our introduction has been an alarming one. I—I don't think we have met during the voyage.”
“No,” replied Salter. “I am in the second cabin.”
“Oh! thank you. It's so good of you,” she faltered amiably, for want of inspiration. As he went out of the stateroom, Salter spoke to Bettina.
“I will send the doctor, if I can find him,” he said. “I think, perhaps, you had better take some brandy yourself. I shall.”