‘You will never get rid of criticism,’ said Mr. Clack, ‘until authors lose their desire of hearing people’s opinions on their books. Every man who produces his poor little novel, every woman who produces her poor little volume of poems, pesters his or her friends for their candid opinion. Now if that candid opinion is published in a newspaper and it happens to be rather opposed to the author’s own judgment of his book, the natural thirst of the author is for the extinction of all criticism.’
‘Did you ever hear two men talk such utter bosh in all your life?’ said Mrs. Webber.
‘I will go on deck for a turn,’ said I, observing that the saloon was fast emptying.
‘Those two men,’ continued she, looking at Mr. Clack somewhat spitefully, ‘remind me of a very old story. A Frenchman and an American made a bet that one would out-talk the other. In the morning they were found in bed, the American dead and the Frenchman feebly whispering in his ear.’
‘If you please, ma’m,’ said the captain’s servant, coming up to me, ‘Captain Ladmore’s compliments, and he will be glad to see you in his cabin if you can spare him five minutes.’
I arose and nervously followed the man to the captain’s cabin, wondering what could be the object of this message. Captain Ladmore made me a grave bow, placed a chair for me, and seated himself at the table at which I had found him reading.
‘I hope,’ said he, ‘you will not think me troublesome in desiring these visits. I have, not had an opportunity of conversing with you lately. You are very much taken up with poor Miss Lee. How does she do?’
‘She is very poorly,’ said I. ‘The malady seems to have rapidly gained upon her within the last few days.’
‘It is too often so,’ he exclaimed. ‘These poor consumptive people embark when it is too late. Mr. McEwan gives me no hope. I fear we shall lose the poor young lady—and lose her soon, too.’ He directed his eyes at the deck and his face grew unusually thoughtful and grave. ‘And how are you feeling?’ said he, after a pause. ‘Does this heat try you?’
‘No, Captain Ladmore; I feel very well, a different being, indeed, since I came into your kind hands.’