How well planned it was: two white berths, one red couch, a wash-stand and rack for glasses and brushes, and a big open port-hole encased by a shining brass rim. Oh, and a glass! and, hurrying to it, she examined with interest her tear-stained face. White skin, pink cheeks, fluffy auburn hair, hazel eyes, nose passable, and one row of white teeth. Further than that the liliputian mirror refused to go, and, with a smile at its absurdity in not taking in her chin and lower row of teeth, she resolved to have it more conveniently hung, and turned to her window.
There was a great rattling of ropes overhead and creaking of chains, a running to and fro, and a succession of whistles; and, surely now they were moving, actually moving. She would like to go on deck, but she would not venture alone. Well, she could see a section of the long wharf from here. It was gliding slowly from them. Surely it was moving, and the Merrimac was stationary. Some of the boxes and bales were left behind; the rearing, plunging horses were being driven away; the workmen were scattering; but here on the end of the wharf was a crowd of men and women, the air about them alive with waving handkerchiefs, hats describing eccentric circles in the air, and shouted parting injunctions; among which the invariable “Write soon” gallantly held its own against numerous odds.
There was no one to see her off, no one who cared for her. She did not even belong to the Danvers. She was probably a lonely orphan, and she again flung herself down on the red couch and buried her face in her hands.
CHAPTER V.
FELLOW SHIPS ON THE SEA OF LIFE.
Some hours passed, but Nina lay quiet and motionless. She had taken her troubles to dreamland; and, in a motley company, she sauntered through its pleasant shades until a shrill whistle from the deck pierced her sleepy brain and caused her to spring nervously to her feet.
She had been asleep. Well, she felt better for it. How delicious was the salt air! and she put her face to the port-hole. Now there was nothing but “water, water all around,” and, as the other line of the quotation came into her mind, she reflected that it was her supper-time, and that the strong sea air had made her fearfully and wonderfully hungry and thirsty. Should she reconnoitre? No, she would certainly lose her way in the labyrinth of passages. ’Steban would surely come to her rescue.
Simultaneously with the ringing of a bell there was a knock at her door.
She opened it and smiled as a fat stewardess gasped out the words, “Captain Fordyce wants to know—won’t you have—some dinner?”