With the utmost unconsciousness of an unanswered question, Trist rose and crossed the deck to meet her.
CHAPTER V.
THE COMPACT.
'It has blown over,' said Trist softly, as the little lady came towards him.
'Yes,' replied Mrs. Wylie with obvious abstraction. She was not thinking of the weather at all. In Trist's monotonous voice there had been an almost imperceptible catch. Slight though it had been, the acute little matron detected it, and she looked keenly through the semi-darkness into her companion's face. His meek eyes met hers, softly, suavely, aggravatingly innocent as usual.
'And,' she added as an after-thought, 'how beautifully fresh it is now!'
She took a seat beside Brenda, glancing at her face as she did so. The girl welcomed her with a little smile, but said nothing. The silence was characteristic. Most young maidens would have considered it necessary to make an inane remark about the weather, just to show, as it were, that that subject had been under discussion before the arrival of this third person.
There was something very pleasant and home-like in the very movements of Mrs. Wylie's arms and hands, as she settled herself and drew her shawl closer round her. Trist seated himself on the rail near at hand, and relighted his pipe. Thus they remained for some time in silence.
'What a strange couple they are!' the matron was reflecting, as she looked slowly from one unconscious face to the other.
'There were one or two terrible flashes of lightning,' she said aloud in a conversational way; 'I was quite nervous, but the Admiral slept placidly through it all.'