"She is not up stairs," he said; "I will go to her stateroom; perhaps she has been lying down; she said she had a headache this afternoon."
Again he left Mona, but came back to her in a few minutes, saying:
"Yes, it is as I thought; she isn't feeling well, and doesn't care to go down to dinner. I am to send her a cup of tea, and then she will retire for the night. Shall we go down now? You must be hungry," he concluded, smiling.
Mona would have much preferred to go by herself, and have him do the same, but she did not wish to have any words with him about it, so quietly followed him to the table, and took her seat beside him.
He was very polite and attentive, supplying all her wants in a thoughtful but unobtrusive way, and did not once by word or look remind her of anything disagreeable.
The dinner was a lengthy affair, and it was after eight when they left the dining-saloon, when Mona at once retreated to her stateroom to rid herself of Louis Hamblin's companionship. On her way thither she rapped upon Mrs. Montague's door, and asked:
"Cannot I do something for you, Mrs. Montague?"
There was no response from within, and thinking she must be asleep, Mona passed on to her own room.
It was growing quite dark, and Mona, feeling both weary and sleepy from the restlessness and wakefulness of the previous night, resolved to retire at once.
She felt really relieved, although a trifle lonely to be in a stateroom by herself, but she fell asleep almost immediately, and did not awake until the gong sounded for breakfast.