“Well, Sheila, perhaps the best way is not to think too much about it. We all have our faults and failings, and we must beware of judging those of other people too harshly. The thing is over and done with now, and we are not set as judges over each other. If Cyril is trying to atone for an error in the past, it would be better to try and excuse it, and not think too harshly of him.”
“I think he’s just as conceited as ever. I don’t think he’s a bit ashamed. Miss Adene, do you know, I rather think he would like to marry May. He is always going over there when she is at home. But he will get a good snubbing if he tries. May would not touch him with a pair of tongs!”
“My dear child!” said Miss Adene, laughing, and then she added, “I had an idea that Cyril was attached to Effie.”
Sheila shrugged up her shoulders.
“I can’t quite make out about that. Sometimes I fancy it is so, and then I don’t know what to think. But Effie has been ill all the summer, and though Cyril used to go and see her pretty often, I could never make out if they cared for one another. Effie’s never been allowed to talk about the fire, so I don’t know if she saw or remembered what Cyril did then. I don’t much believe that Cyril cares for anybody but himself; only May is well born, and Effie is an heiress. It’s those things he thinks about.”
“Sheila, Sheila, don’t be cynical!”
“Well, I’ve heard people say so. Even Ray said something very like that. Ray is sensible; she doesn’t go down flat before the family idol. She is fond of Cyril, but she sees his faults. She and North have really much more in them than Raby and Cyril.”
Sheila enjoyed her little gossip with Miss Adene, and was almost reluctant to go to bed. However, when once there she slept soundly, and only awoke when the stewardess brought her a cup of morning tea.
“It’s pretty rough, miss, but fine and sunny. Not weather as sailors call it, but a capful of wind right in our faces. If you feel like getting up, I’ll bring you hot water; but most of the ladies are lying still, even those that aren’t ill.”
But Sheila was all for getting up, though she staggered about her narrow little cabin, and was glad to sit down as much as she could, for the vessel pitched and lurched a good deal, and her hairpins went flying over the floor, and her clothes swayed and flapped in a comic manner.