It was the first day out; and he liked to think that he could occasionally look at this face for a week to come, and when he got to shore he would paint her. He had a studio in the suburbs, to which he often went and to which his mother and sisters had never been invited. It was often a delight to him to think of its freedom and seclusion.
He was acutely jarred upon, as he stood alone at the deck rail, by the approach of a man who had a club acquaintance with him at home, which he had shown a disposition to magnify since coming aboard the steamer. He was not a man for whose talk Noel cared at any time, but he felt a distinct rebellion against it just now. This feeling was swiftly put to flight, however, by the fact that on his way to him the new-comer passed and bowed to the beautiful girl, receiving in return a bow and a smile. The bow was gracious, the smile charming, lighting for an instant the gravity of her calm face, and showing perfect teeth.
“Ah, Miller! that you? How’re you coming on?” said Noel, with a sudden access of cordiality, making a place for the new-comer at his side.
“All right, thanks, considering it’s the first day out. That’s generally the biggest bore, because you know there are six or seven more just like it to follow. Pretty girl that, ain’t it?”
“Who is she?” asked Noel, refusing to concur in the designation.
“Mrs. Dallas, according to her new name.”
“And that is her husband?”
“That is her husband. He’s not a bad-looking fellow, either; but you don’t look as if you approved him.”
“I?” said Noel. “Why shouldn’t I? He seems a good-looking fellow enough. Do you know her?”
“Yes, I know her. Everybody knew her at Baden. It was not very hard to do.”