“I sincerely trust that you have quite recovered,” continued the young officer, directing an admiring gaze at Julia.
“Quite, I thank you,” said Mrs Hallam coldly.
“Then we shall see you at the table, Mrs Hallam—and Miss Hallam?” he continued, with another bow.
Julia returned the bow, looking flushed and rather indignant.
“I hope you will excuse me,” continued Eaton; “on shipboard you see we are like one family, all as it were in the same house.”
Mrs Hallam bowed again, flushing as ingenuously as her daughter, for these advances troubled her greatly. She would have preferred being alone, and in a more humble portion of the vessel, but Sir Gordon and Bayle had insisted upon her occupying one of the best cabins, and it seemed to her that she was there under false pretences, and that it was only a question of days before there must come discovery which would put them to open shame.
Driven, as it were, to bay by the young officer’s words, she replied hastily: “You must excuse me now; I have scarcely recovered.”
“Pray forgive me,” cried Eaton, giving Julia a look full of intelligence which made her shrink, “I ought to have known better. In a short time I hope, Mrs Hallam, that we shall be better acquainted.”
He raised his cap again and drew back, while, excited and agitated beyond her wont, Mrs Hallam exclaimed:
“It cannot be, Julie. We must keep ourselves aloof from these people—from all the passengers; our course is alone—till we join him.”