“I do blame you; it’s no excuse. Did you think I was mean enough to let that prevent me from speaking to you?”
“Since you have asked the question, I can’t imagine your being mean in any way at all,” Jimmy answered boldly. “I’m afraid I was indulging in false sentiment, but perhaps that wasn’t unnatural. We all have our weaknesses.”
“That’s true; mine’s a quick temper, and you nearly made me angry. I feel slighted when people I know run away from me.”
“One wouldn’t imagine it often happens. Anyhow, I’ve pleaded guilty.”
“Then, as a punishment, you must come with me to our hotel and tell us of your voyage to the North. My father will not be back until late, but I think you’ll like my aunt.”
Jimmy looked surprised.
“You knew I was in the North?”
“Yes,” she answered, smiling. “Does that seem very strange? Perhaps you find it easy to let a pleasant acquaintance drop.”
“I found it very hard,” Jimmy said with some warmth.
Then he pulled himself up, remembering that this was not the line he ought to take. “After all,” he added, “it doesn’t follow that a friendship made on a voyage can be kept up ashore. A steamboat officer’s privileges end when he reaches land.”