“She is going to visit relatives. She would not care to have you tagging after her.”
“But I suppose there are hotels in London.”
“Yes, a few; but with your recently acquired worldly wisdom it is remarkable that it does not occur to you that, at your age, and with your inexperience, travelling alone would be attended by numberless difficulties. Englishwomen are reserved. You could not strike up friendships here as you could in America.”
“I wish I were in America,” she said, with sudden heat.
“So do I, birdie. I am sorry I brought you with me.”
His calm remark threw her into a sudden confused surprise, to cover which she asked, quickly, “What are you going to do with yourself?”
“I shall stay here for some days, then take a run over to Paris, I think.”
“And—and when shall I see you?” she faltered.
“Any time you drop me a line. If I don’t get one I will run in and say good-bye the evening before we are off to sea again. That will be about ten days hence.”
“But I,—what am I to do?”