A kind of resurrection ensued. A curious conglomeration of passengers issued from the rooms that had been affording them shelter during the last few days. Numbers of them had never been seen before; and Nina developed an irresistible tendency to laugh in her sleeve, as they, for the most part, sneaked on deck with the guilty air of having been off on a lengthy spree.
However, their pale, seasick faces brightened as the land breeze swept across the decks; and with vows not loud, but deep, they solemnly bound themselves never again to exchange the delights of terra firma for a life on the ocean wave.
Just before lunch Mrs. Grayley came on deck. She languidly sank into a chair beside Nina, and her eyes wandered to Captain Eversleigh, who was sitting in the waist of the ship. When he left his comfortable reclining chair to administer consolation to a child who had fallen down, she said, “That man has a kind heart if he has an ugly face.”
Miss Marsden and Nina had indulged in numberless speculations in regard to Captain Eversleigh; for, with characteristic English reserve, he volunteered but little information about himself.
“Do you know him?” asked Nina, quietly.
“I know about him. He stayed with some friends of mine in New York. He is on his way to take possession of some property left him by a distant relative: it will make him quite a rich man.”
Miss Marsden, who was sitting beyond Nina, made no remark; and the latter again took up the thread of conversation. “Did he get the news while he was in America?”
“Yes, by cablegram. He is in an English regiment of the line. I dare say he will leave it and devote himself to taking care of his money.”
“He is rather agreeable to talk to,” drawled Nina.
Mrs. Grayley’s inane face enlivened itself. “You are not doing the poor fellow justice with your faint praise. My friends whom he visited—the Dunmoor-Marleys, of New York—said that his aunt, old Lady Glenville, who lives in Park Lane, London, actually bows down and worships him. She is a fine old lady, regular English type; rides horseback like a girl. She brought him up; his parents are dead. Her husband is an admiral, old Admiral Glenville. I dare say you have heard of him, Miss Marsden,” and she leaned across Nina to look at Nina’s silent companion.