III.
Lydia went back to the cabin, and presently the boy who had taken charge of her lighter luggage came dragging her trunk and bag down the gangway stairs. Neither was very large, and even a boy of fourteen who was small for his age might easily manage them.
“You can stow away what's in 'em in the drawers,” said the boy. “I suppose you didn't notice the drawers,” he added, at her look of inquiry. He went into her room, and pushing aside the valance of the lower berth showed four deep drawers below the bed; the charming snugness of the arrangement brought a light of housewifely joy to the girl's face.
“Why, it's as good as a bureau. They will hold everything.”
“Yes,” exulted the boy; “they're for two persons' things. The captain's daughters, they both had this room. Pretty good sized too; a good deal the captain's build. You won't find a better stateroom than this on a steamer. I've been on 'em.” The boy climbed up on the edge of the upper drawer, and pulled open the window at the top of the wall. “Give you a little air, I guess. If you want I should, the captain said I was to bear a hand helping you to stow away what was in your trunks.”
“No,” said Lydia, quickly. “I'd just as soon do it alone.”
“All right,” said the boy. “If I was you, I'd do it now. I don't know just when the captain means to sail; but after we get outside, it might be rough, and it's better to have everything pretty snug by that time. I'll haul away the trunks when you've got 'em empty. If I shouldn't happen to be here, you can just call me at the top of the gangway, and I'll come. My name's Thomas,” he said. He regarded Lydia inquiringly a moment before he added: “If you'd just as lives, I rather you'd call me Thomas, and not steward. They said you'd call me steward,” he explained, in a blushing, deprecating confidence; “and as long as I've not got my growth, it kind of makes them laugh, you know,—especially the second officer.”
“I will call you Thomas,” said Lydia.
“Thank you.” The boy glanced up at the round clock screwed to the cabin wall. “I guess you won't have to call me anything unless you hurry. I shall be down here, laying the table for supper, before you're done. The captain said I was to lay it for you and him, and if he didn't get back in time you was to go to eating, any way. Guess you won't think Captain Jenness is going to starve anybody.”
“Have you been many voyages with Captain Jenness before this?” asked Lydia, as she set open her trunk, and began to lay her dresses out on the locker. Homesickness, like all grief, attacks in paroxysms. One gust of passionate regret had swept over the girl; before another came, she could occupy herself almost cheerfully with the details of unpacking.