“I hope to get off after the Mariposa’s trial run.”
Mrs. Blake smiled, a sympathetic smile. “You want to feel you go in triumph? Well, since you made the boiler drawings, if the Mariposa steams very fast, it will be something of a triumph.”
“I’d like Evelyn to know I made some progress,” Kit admitted modestly.
“You promised to show me her portrait. Have you got it?”
Kit pulled out his pocket-book and Mabel studied the photograph. Evelyn was obviously young, and Mabel thought her attractive, but she was not altogether satisfied. Evelyn’s mouth was ominously firm, and one got a hint of hardness. The girl was perhaps ambitious; she was not generous....
“She has not yet promised to marry you?”
“Not yet. Our relations know my hopes and I think, on the whole, approve, but Evelyn is not rich and my poverty is notorious. There’s a sort of agreement that if I make good and get a proper post, we may talk about an engagement.”
“But are not your relations rich?”
“My uncle, Alan Carson, was accountable for my premium at the shipyard,” Kit replied in a thoughtful voice. “He’s a very good sort, but he’s justified to stop; then, although Netherhall’s a beautiful old house, the estate is his wife’s. To get me a proper job is my other uncle’s part, but, so far, I haven’t bothered him, and it does not look as if he were very keen. Anyhow, if he does get me a post, it will probably be abroad.”
“Ah,” said Blake, “the power your old, landowning families use is strange! You command our battleships, you rule the Indian Civil Service, and you marry American millionaires. But where do you expect to go?”