“I’m sorry if you have been ill. The passage has been remarkably smooth.”
“We have not been ill. I have a very sick boy.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!”
“He is better now. Pray sit down, Mr. Richard-without-the-‘s,’ and do put on your cap. I appreciate the deference to my grey hair, but I am also enough of a grandmother not to want to be the cause of a cold in the head. Later, I shall want to talk to you. Good-bye, until we get on our feet.”
The incident of Mr. Richard, the Captain’s friend, had been driven from Mrs. Wells’ mind by the catastrophe to Walter. Now, as she walked arm in arm with Geraldine, she began to piece things together.
“That night in Naples,” the mother began in a tone that put Geraldine on guard.
“Yes, mother.”
“Why were you searching about the steamer only half dressed?”
When Geraldine had confronted her mother and Walter that night before her stateroom door, the easiest explanation was that she could not sleep and had been on deck to get the air. That excuse she had carefully tucked away for later use. But the mother did not ask, Why did you go on deck? but, Why were you searching about the steamer? Mother’s second-sight was uncanny.
“Were you looking for Walter?” Mrs. Wells suggested.