“I don’t get tired quicker than you do,” said Mavis quietly. Her heart sank within her at Ruby’s tone; for though she was glad to think Forget-me-not would prevent any harm to old Adam or Winfried, she did not like to think of Ruby’s heartlessness and folly. And when she glanced at Bertrand and saw the half-scornful smile on his face, it was all she could do to keep back her tears.
All that evening the rain kept pouring down in torrents, and the wind beat on the window, shaking even the heavy frames, like a giant in a fury, determined to make his way in.
“What a storm,” said Miss Hortensia more than once, with a little shiver. “I cannot bear to think of the poor souls at sea.”
Bertrand laughed.
“It would be great fun to see a shipwreck, if one was safe out of harm’s way. I wouldn’t mind staying up in that musty old turret a whole afternoon to have a good view.”
Even Ruby was startled.
“Oh Bertrand,” she said, “you can’t know what a shipwreck means if you speak like that.”
“I’ve read stories of them,” said the boy, “so I should know.”
There was a very slight touch of something in his tone which made Mavis wonder if he really meant all the naughty things he said. She glanced up at him quickly.
“If there ever were a shipwreck here,” she said, “I know who’d help and who wouldn’t.”