Miss Smith had done the obvious thing. She could not set off with her
suit case and walk home, so she had taken the next best course. She had
gone quietly out of the back door, through the garden, and down the road
in the direction of the ship, which was, after all, a sort of bridge to
home.
It was a long walk, and she had to ask her way, but in the course of
time she got there. A young officer was standing under the shed,
superintending the unloading of the cargo, and she went up to him.
“You’re one of the officers, aren’t you?” she asked.
He took off his cap and smiled at her. It was such a nice smile that she
was able to go on, in a brisk, sensible way:
“I was one of the passengers, you know.”
“Yes,” said he. “I saw you on board.”
“And I want to go back,” said Miss Smith. “I want to go on the ship now,
and stay there until it sails.”
He couldn’t help looking astonished.
“But I’m afraid--” he began.
“Well, I’ve got to!” cried Miss Smith, and he saw, with dismay, that
there were tears in her eyes. “I’ve g-got to! I have some money in the
savings bank in New York, and I can pay whatever it costs as soon as we
get back.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said politely; “but I’m afraid--”
He was silent for a moment, thinking of some tactful way of offering his
assistance to this young person with tears in her eyes. No one could
have felt more sympathetic than he; but Miss Smith, weary and sick at
heart, firmly believed that he, too, thought her an adventuress.
“I’m a governess,” she said, in an unexpectedly loud and severe tone.
“The family I was coming with somehow missed the ship, and--”
“What?” he cried. “A governess! But wait--look here!”
“Yes, I am!” said she. “I am!”
“Yes, but look here! I was at the gangway, you know, and just before we
sailed a young chap came dashing up and gave me a purse--a long brown
purse--”
“My purse!”
“‘It’s for Miss--can’t remember the name,’ he said. ‘It’s for Miss
What’s-Her-Name, the governess,’ and then he dashed off again.”
“That’s me!” cried Miss Smith, pardonably ungrammatical in her emotion.
“Look here! I’m most awfully sorry!” said the young officer earnestly.
“It’s all my fault. I turned it over to the purser and told him that
Miss What’s-Her-Name would probably come and ask for it. You see, I
never thought _you_ could be a governess, you know. I _am_ sorry!”
“But is it there? Can I get it?”
“Rather!” said he. “Purser’s on board now, getting ready to go ashore.
I’ll fetch him.”
Off he went, and was back in no time with the purser and Miss Smith’s
pocketbook. There was a note inside it.