When he saw her safe in a large easy chair, he sat down by her, and said, in a quiet voice:
“I left Maurice quite well yesterday, very busy and enthusiastic about his ship.”
“Happy, too,” ejaculated Hilary, her thoughts instantly reverting to her brother’s cares and troubles, and forgetting at once all her own embarrassments. “How are his spirits?”
“Variable, perhaps; at least I fancied so, when he was not actually employed; but better than at first.”
She looked at him, anxious to try and ascertain what he knew or suspected of Maurice’s feelings; but meeting his grave,
dark eyes, she was recalled to a recollection of herself and him; she colored again, hesitated, and broke off a half-uttered word abruptly.
He waited to allow her time to recover, then finding she was silent, he said:—“Were you going to ask how long we should be fitting out? I think in three weeks more we shall report ourselves ready for sea!”
The easiest thing for her to do was to repeat his words, “Three weeks!”
“Come here, Nest,” said the Captain, “Maurice sent you his love, and a great many kisses. Shall I give them to you?”
“Did Maurice give them to you first?” inquired Miss Nest, with a look half coquettish, half demure, and holding back from him.