It was true that Ginger referred to her rather contemptuously as Old Tidde-fol-lol, and saw, or affected to see, something deep in her most innocent actions. But the Sailor, with a natural reverence for her sex in spite of all he had suffered at its hands, was constrained to believe these slighting references to Old Tidde-fol-lol were lapses of taste on the part of his hero. Homer nods on occasion. Henry Harper was not acquainted with that impressive fact at this period of his life, but he was sure that Ginger was a little unfortunate in his references to Miss Foldal.
The Sailor was beginning to like Miss Foldal immensely. He did not go beyond that. The great apparition of Woman in her cardinal aspect had not yet appeared to him, and was not to do so for long days to come. As Ginger said, he was a kid at present, and hardly knew he was born. Still, he was beginning to take notice.
"Would you like me to pour out your tea, Mr. Harper?"
"Thank you, miss." He was no longer so ignorant as to say, "Thank you, lady."
"Sugar?"
"Please, miss."
He admired immensely the manipulation of the sugar tongs by those elegant hands. They were inclined to be fat and were perhaps rather broad to the purview of a connoisseur, but they were covered in rings set with stones more or less precious, and the soul of Henry Harper responded instinctively to all that they meant and stood for. The hands of Auntie were not as these.
"You do take two lumps and milk, of course?"
There was an ease and a charm about Miss Foldal that made the Sailor think of velvet.
"Now take a piece of muffin while it's warm."