“You have seen it, George?” said Jean as they went on. “If you mean the paragraph about the ‘Ben Nevis,’ yes, I have seen it. It does not say much beyond the usual, ‘Fears are entertained for the safety, etc.’”
“And now she will see it.”
“Yes, I think it is as well. It will help to prepare her for what she may have to hear later.”
“George,” said Jean in a little, “does that mean that you are afraid?”
“There is cause for anxiety. There was that before we left London. I only wonder that Mrs Calderwood has said so little about it.”
“And you left London more than six weeks ago.” George told her of the succession of terrible storms that had swept over the Southern seas about the close of the year, in latitudes where possibly the “Ben Nevis” had been at that time, acknowledging that there would be reason to fear for the fate of the ship unless she were heard from soon. His anxiety had been greater than he knew, and he had kept it to himself so long that to speak was a relief, which led him to say more to his sister than he would otherwise have done. His words were less hopeful than he meant them to be, until Jean said, “Do you mean that you give them up?”
“By no means. I do not even give up the ship. I know Willie Calderwood and what he can do too well to do that yet a white. And even if they had to forsake the ship, the chances are in favour of safety for the men. All that depends on circumstances of which we can know nothing. But I by no means give up the ship even yet.”
“But, George, should you not have stayed to tell Mrs Calderwood so?”
“No, I think not. There will be time enough for that, and she is of a nature to meet the first pain best alone.”
“But Marion?”