'How pleasant it must be,' said Miss Brewster, 'to travel with a friend! Then one is not lonely. I, unfortunately, am travelling alone.'
'I fancy,' said the gallant Wentworth, 'that if you are lonely while on board ship, it will be entirely your own fault.'
Miss Brewster laughed a silvery little laugh.
'I don't know about that,' she said. 'I am going to that Mecca of all Americans—Paris. My father is to meet me there, and we are then going on to the Riviera together.'
'Ah, that will be very pleasant,' said Wentworth. 'The Riviera at this season is certainly a place to be desired.'
'So I have heard,' she replied.
'Have you not been across before?'
'No, this is my first trip. I suppose you have crossed many times?'
'Oh no,' answered the Englishman; 'this is only my second voyage, my first having been the one that took me to America.'
'Ah, then you are not an American,' returned Miss Brewster, with apparent surprise.