“Ah, yes,” said Margaret. “It’s interesting to put a Hollar beside the real thing. No artist can make a ship wonderful to us. A ship is a wonderful work of art without him. Just look at them there, Olivia.”
“They’re beautiful,” she said, looking at the ships. “Why. The Broken Heart’s under sail.”
“Her topsails are on the caps. Ready for us to go.”
“In case we do go?”
“Yes. In case.” Olivia looked at him steadily, noting that, for all his self-control, he seemed uneasy at her look. The situation was saved by the entrance of an orderly, in the white coat and blue scarf of the Virginia troop. He saluted.
“The Governor presents ’s compliments ’n’ ’ll join you d’rec’ly.”
“Thank you,” said Margaret. “I suppose the mails have arrived? Do you know?”
“Yes, sir,” said the man, as he stood in the doorway. “In the summer fleet, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“What have you got there, Tom?” said Olivia.