“I hope you don’t mind the chairs being secured to the deck,” he said, taking off his hat. “So far above sea line, you know, everything that is loose comes to grief when the ship rolls.”
“Then what becomes of your photographs?” demanded Isobel, promptly, her quick eyes having discovered the pictures of two ladies in silver frames on a writing-table.
“I take care to put them away. There is always plenty of warning. No ordinary sea can trouble a big hulk like the Kansas.”
“Is that your mother, the dear old lady in the lace cap?”
“Yes, and the other is my sister.”
“Oh, really! Is she married?”
“No. Like me, she is wedded to her profession.”
“Will you think it rude if I ask what that is?”
“She is a hospital nurse; the matron, indeed, of a public institution in the suburbs of London.”
“How wonderful! I do admire hospital nurses so much. They are so clever and self-sacrificing, and they always have a smile on their sweet faces. Only dad wouldn’t hear of such a thing, I should love to be a nurse myself.”