The Pilot himself, too, was a new and wholesome experience. He was the first thing she had yet encountered that refused submission, and the first human being that had failed to fall down and worship. There was something in him that would not ALWAYS yield, and, indeed, her pride and her imperious tempers he met with surprise and sometimes with a pity that verged toward contempt. With this she was not well pleased and not infrequently she broke forth upon him. One of these outbursts is stamped upon my mind, not only because of its unusual violence, but chiefly because of the events which followed. The original cause of her rage was some trifling misdeed of the unfortunate Joe; but when I came upon the scene it was The Pilot who was occupying her attention. The expression of surprise and pity on his face appeared to stir her up.
“How dare you look at me like that?” she cried.
“How very extraordinary that you can't keep hold of yourself better!” he answered.
“I can!” she stamped, “and I shall do as I like!”
“It is a great pity,” he said, with provoking calm, “and besides, it is weak and silly.” His words were unfortunate.
“Weak!” she gasped, when her breath came back to her. “Weak!”
“Yes,” he said, “very weak and childish.”
Then she could have cheerfully put him to a slow and cruel death. When she had recovered a little she cried vehemently:
“I'm not weak! I'm strong! I'm stronger than you are! I'm strong as—as—a man!”
I do not suppose she meant the insinuation; at any rate The Pilot ignored it and went on.