An awning covered the greater part of the poop of our ship, for the sun this morning was very hot. A comfortable easy-chair had been placed ready for Alice, and when she was seated I looked about me for chairs for Mrs. Lee and myself. Whilst I thus paused with my eyes roaming over the deck, Mr Harris, the first officer, who was walking upon the poop at the forward extremity of it, snatched up a chair, without regard to whom it might belong, and, approaching us with it, struck it down upon the deck close against Alice Lee, as though he intended to drive the four legs of it through the planks.
‘That’s what you’re in want of,’ said he to me, ‘I saw you looking. Sit down. If the party who owns this chair wants another I’ll hail the saloon,’ and so saying he wheeled round and marched forwards again.
‘What a very extraordinary manner Mr. Harris has,’ said Mrs. Lee. ‘I sometimes think he is not quite right.’
I asked her to take the chair he had brought.
‘No, my dear, there are some matters I wish to attend to downstairs. I will join you presently,’ and then she bent over her daughter and asked her if she felt comfortable, and if the air refreshed her, and so forth, and having lingered a little whilst she talked to Alice, striving to see her child’s face through the veil which covered it, she left us.
Some of the people were playing at deck quoits. Amongst the players were the Miss Glanvilles, and their fine shapes showed to great advantage as they poised themselves upon the planks, and with floating gestures and merry laughter threw the little rings of rope along. Every one bowed with sympathetic cordiality to Alice, and several people left their seats to congratulate her upon her first appearance on deck. One of these was Sir Frederick Thompson.
‘This is the sort of weather,’ said he, ‘to pull a person together. Lor’ now, if one could always have such a climate as this in England! Ten to one if there ain’t a dense fog in London this morning.’
‘Pray,’ asked Alice, ‘what are those flags, Sir Frederick, which that lad in brass buttons there is pulling down?’
‘The ship’s number, miss. We’ve told that steamer out yonder who we are, and when she arrives in the river she’ll report us, and our friends’ll learn that all’s well with us so fur. I’ve got half a sort of feeling, d’ye know, as if I’d like to be on board of that steamer going home. I tell you what I miss—I miss my morning noosepaper. I miss reading how things are. And how do you feel this morning, Miss C——? Pretty well, I hope?’
‘I am feeling very well, this morning, Sir Frederick.’