I was glad of the lowering sky as I stepped up the gangway to the ship's deck. "What might have been" went down the cabin stairs with me; and as I threw my wraps and knapsack into the double state-room I had chosen I felt like a widower.
It was wonderful to me then, as I sat down on the side of the berth and looked around me, how the last two weeks had filled all the future with dreams. "I must have a genius for castle-building," I laughed. "Well, the reality is cold and empty enough. I'll go up on deck."
On deck, among the piles of luggage, were various metal-covered trunks marked M——. I remember now watching them as they were stowed away.
But it was with a curious shock, an hour after we had left the dock, that a turn in my solitary walk on deck brought me face to face with Fanny Meyrick.
"You here?" she said. "I thought you had sailed in the Russia! Bessie told me you were to go then."
"Did she know," I asked, "that you were going by this steamer?"
On my life, never was gallantry farther from my thoughts: my question concerned Bessie alone, but Fanny apparently took it as a compliment, and looked up gayly: "Oh yes: that was fixed months ago. I told her about it at Lenox."
"And did she tell you something else?" I asked sharply.
"Oh yes. I was very glad to hear of your good prospect. Do be congratulated, won't you?"
Rather an odd way to put it, thought I, but it is Fanny Meyrick's way. "Good prospect!" Heavens! was that the term to apply to my engagement with Bessie?