Clementina felt herself giving way, and she pleaded in final reluctance, “But I haven't got a pleated skut in my steama trunk.”
“No matter! We can manage that.” Mrs. Milray jumped to her feet and took Lord Lioncourt's arm. “Now we must go and drum up somebody else.” He did not seem eager to go, but he started. “Then that's all settled,” she shouted over her shoulder to Clementina.
“No, no, Mrs. Milray!” Clementina called after her. “The ship tilts so—”
“Nonsense! It's the smoothest run she ever made in December. And I'll engage to have the sea as steady as a rock for you. Remember, now, you've promised.”
Mrs. Milray whirled her Englishman away, and left Clementina sitting beside her husband.
“Did you want to dance for them, Clementina?” he asked.
“I don't know,” she said, with the vague smile of one to whom a pleasant hope has occurred.
“I thought perhaps you were letting Mrs. Milray bully you into it. She's a frightful tyrant.”
“Oh, I guess I should like to do it, if you think it would be—nice.”
“I dare say it will be the nicest thing at their ridiculous show.” Milray laughed as if her willingness to do the dance had defeated a sentimental sympathy in him.