Daireen thought of all she had written regarding Standish, to prevent his father becoming uneasy about him.
“Oh, yes, I have had a good deal of news that will interest them,” she said. “I have told them that the Atlantic is not such a terrible place after all. Why, we have not had even a breeze yet.”
“No, we have not, but you should not forget, Daireen, the tornado that at least one ship perished in.” She looked gravely at the girl, though she felt very pleased indeed to know that her protégée had not remembered this particular storm. “You have mentioned in your letters, I hope, how Mr. Markham was saved?”
“I believe I devoted an entire page to Mr. Markham,” Daireen replied with a smile.
“That is right, my dear. You have also said, I am sure, how we all hope he is—a—a gentleman.”
“Hope?” said Daireen quickly. Then she added after a pause, “No, Mrs. Crawford, I don't think I said that. I only said that he would be leaving us to-morrow.”
Mrs. Crawford's nicely sensitive ear detected, she fancied, a tinge of regret in the girl's last tone.
“Ah, he told you that he had made up his mind to leave the ship at St. Helena, did he not?” she asked.
“Of course he is to leave us there, Mrs. Crawford. Did you not understand so?”
“I did indeed; but I am disappointed in Mr. Markham. I thought that he was everything that is firm. Yes, I am disappointed in him.”