“Come on, mum; I won’t let you in,” said the man of the ladder, seductively.
“Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall I do?” groaned Miss Terry, wringing the hand that was not employed in holding on.
“John,” called Mrs. Carr to a servant who was behind Miss Terry, and looking considerably alarmed, “don’t stand there like a fool; put Miss Terry on to that ladder.”
Mrs. Carr was evidently accustomed to be obeyed, for, thus admonished, John seized the struggling and shrieking Miss Terry, and bore her to the edge of the boat, where she was caught by two sailors, and, amidst the cheers of excited passengers, fairly dragged on to the deck.
“Oh! Mrs. Carr,” said the chief officer, reproachfully, when Miss Terry had been satisfactorily deposited on a bench, “you are late again; you were late last voyage.”
“Not at all, Mr. Thompson. I hate spending longer than is necessary aboard ship, so, when the train got in, I took a boat and went for a row in the harbour. I knew that you would not go without me.”
“Oh, yes, we should have, Mrs. Carr; the skipper heard about it because he waited for you before.”
“Well, here I am, and I promise that I won’t do it again.”
Mr. Thompson laughed, and passed on. At this moment Mrs. Carr perceived Arthur, and, bowing to him, they fell into conversation about the scenery through which the boat was passing on her way to the open sea. Before very long, indeed, as soon as the vessel began to rise and fall upon the swell, this talk was interrupted by a voice from the seat where Miss Terry had been placed.
“Mildred,” it said, “I do wish you would not come to sea; I am beginning to feel ill.”