"You will perhaps take her by surprise, my lad. She is ill—very weak—she cannot stand any shock. Which of her friends or relatives has come to meet her?"
"I have come—only," said Jeff, "I ran away to do it. She would expect me, of course."
Captain Clark looked at the boy, whose fair face flashed at some painful recollection.
"Well done, Jeff." The old captain's voice was husky. "Come with me at once. We will find your mother's maid or the stewardess, but you must promise to be very gentle and not to agitate her."
Jeff smiled with superior wisdom. How could his presence agitate his beloved mother?
At one of the state-room doors off the saloon Captain Clark knocked gently.
An elderly woman answered the summons at once, and held up her finger with a warning "Hush! she is asleep, poor lady! do not wake her."
Then Jeff came a little forward, trembling with eagerness, his eyes full of yearning.
"This is her boy, Mrs. Parsons, who has come alone from Scotland to meet her."
Jeff's steadfast eyes met the woman's, but he did not understand the look of pity in them. Why should anyone be sorry for him, now that the sad years of separation had come to an end?