“Your sister, Mrs. King, is she well now?” pursued Mr. Bayley, trying to be very nonchalant, and fumbling at his cigarette case.
“Very well indeed, thank you,” said Joel.
“Mr. Bayley, I think I must have my constitutional now,” said his wife with another drawl, and putting her hand on his arm.
“Oh, yes, certainly—certainly,” said Mr. Bayley. “Well, I’m awfully glad, don’t you know, that we’ve met again,” making elaborate adieux.
“And I hope we shall see much of each other on the voyage,” said Mrs. Bayley sweetly, with no eyes for any one but Phronsie.
“Thanks,” said Joel as they swept off.
“If you please, miss,” said the deck-steward, coming up and touching his cap respectfully to Phronsie, “there’s an old woman who says she wishes you would come to see her. She’s in her stateroom.”
“An old woman?” asked Phronsie wonderingly.
“Yes, miss. She didn’t give her name, but said she saw you come on board yesterday. And she’s very urgent, miss.”
“I’ll go with you to the door, and you can find out who she is,” said Joel.