A LITTLE IDLE WORD.
“What a delicious evening!” Side by side, a few hours later, Miss
Marsden and Nina knelt on a couch in a tiny ladies’ cabin on deck,
looking out through the open window at the long, undulating line of
light playing over the surface of the sunlit waves.
“How indescribably beautiful it is,” went on Miss Marsden, softly.
“‘I long to tread that path of golden rays,
And think ’twould lead to some bright isle of rest.’”
Nina murmured an assent, and the silence was not again broken until
they heard the “quaintly musical tramp” and the cheery voices of the
sailors as they marched over the deck outside to take the hourly log.
They called out the number of knots they were making; then their
footsteps died away, and quietness again reigned, broken only by the
gentle lapping of the waves against the side of the ship.
“Only a plank between us and death,” said Miss Marsden, with a shudder;
and she incited the meditative Nina to a discussion of their chances
of escape in case of accident, fire, or shipwreck. Their conjectures
were brought to a premature close by hearing, in a manly voice, “Yes,
I acknowledge that Mrs. Fordyce is not bad looking, but she is too
unformed for my taste. I like a woman with a little more _savoir faire_
than that baby-faced girl will ever have. Miss Marsden is a woman after
my own heart. Her pretty pale face set off by those bands of dark hair
is absolutely charming; and her repose of manner is faultless. I wonder
what her first name is?”
For the next few seconds Miss Marsden and Nina carried on a dialogue
composed, like that of Butler’s Spaniards, of “heads and shoulders,
nods and shrugs.” They communicated to each other the intelligence that
Captain Eversleigh was at the open window of his room next the ladies’
cabin; and owing to the calmness of the sea and the lack of noise about
the ship, they could hear nearly every word he said.
Though convinced that they were not doing a perfectly honourable thing,
they had not the necessary strength of mind to close the window. The
prospect of learning their neighbour’s opinion of them was too alluring.
So they were all ears as Captain Eversleigh continued, “Stupid man, I
know the little girl’s name fast enough. Haven’t I heard her husband
growl a dozen proprietary ‘Ninas?’ When I said ‘her,’ I meant Miss
Marsden. What did that dicer Delessert say is the name of the fellow
that jilted her?”
Miss Marsden went through a pantomime of dumb wrath. Now she could make
common cause with Nina against the panther who had been gossiping about
her recreant lover. The tall youth Maybury was with Captain Eversleigh,
and evidently was either sharing his window as Nina was sharing Miss
Marsden’s, or was at a second one; for his boyish tones of mock
wrathfulness clearly floated to them.
“Seek out the villain, pick a quarrel with him, beat him to a jelly for
his heartlessness.”
Nina laughed under her breath, and by means of lip movement announced
her surprise at this unbending of the tall, usually wordless youth.
“Bah!” whispered Miss Marsden, noiselessly, “men jabber just like girls
when they are alone.”
Her champion continued, “Poor girl! she looks as fragile as a bit of
my aunt’s egg-shell china, and Delessert said she was as jolly as a
sandboy before this happened.”
Mr. Maybury took up the strain. “And the scamp that took the roses
out of her cheeks is now transplanting them in the affections of
another girl, according to our Jack of cards informant. Seek him out,
Eversleigh; ‘cudgel him like a dog,’ to quote old Will; persuade Miss
Anonyma Marsden to ‘doff the willow garland’ for the low deceiver, and
don a bit of orange blossom for you.”
“What an utter idiot!” murmured Miss Marsden, in annoyance, and trying
to hush Nina, who had lost control of herself and had buried her head
in the sofa cushions. In trying to suppress her, Miss Marsden lost a
part of the conversation; and when she resumed her place at the window
she found that Captain Eversleigh had entered upon a more egotistical
branch of the subject.
“Can you not suggest some way of gaining their favour?” he was asking,
impatiently.
“One is a society woman, and the other a shy robin,” replied Mr.
Maybury, in an oracular tone of voice.
“They both probably understand music,” continued Captain Eversleigh.
“Would it not be jolly if we could get them to make some use of the
piano and organ during these everlasting days? This ceaseless stupidity
will soon turn my brain. Fordyce won’t come out of his shell, Delessert
we have cut, and as all the eligible people but those girls are ill, it
leaves us only a few cads of men to fall back on. That little beggar in
the glaring tweed suit will worry me into my grave if some one doesn’t
stop him from teasing away from me all those two shilling cigars I
bought of the Spanish consul for the voyage.”
“Leave your cigar-case behind you when you go to the smoking-room,”
suggested Mr. Maybury. Then he burst out laughing. “By Jove, though,
it’s as good as a play to see the little divvy’s nose going when you
approach.”
“My precious Havanas shall not waste their fragrance any longer on
that cockney,” grumbled Captain Eversleigh; “a twopenny cigarette is
good enough for him. Maybury, you are going to sleep. Rouse yourself,
old boy, and sing ‘Press the Grape;’” and he began a drinking-song in
well-controlled, pleasant tones.
Presently his friend joined in with a voice so opposed to his
conversational tones that, overcome by his raven-like croakings, they
both exploded in peals of laughter. Their mirth was infectious, and
hastily closing the window Miss Marsden and Nina too gave way to
merriment.
Nina was the first to recover composure, and she took to blinking at
her slightly confused companion. Then a match-making ardour rose within
her. Captain Eversleigh apparently fancied Miss Marsden. Why should
he not be encouraged? Perhaps in time he might take the place of that
bad man who had forsaken her. Also she herself would enjoy talking to
the tall boy who had expressed his admiration for her. She would not
flirt with him. Oh, no, she would merely talk soberly and quietly as
befitted a married woman. She must not be gay nor forward; for in that
case she would annoy her Spaniard. She would, however, like him to see
that, even though he had deserted her himself, and had driven away the
scapegrace Delessert, she was not at a loss for companionship.
“I dare say they are lonely,” she observed, bringing her cogitations to
a close. “What a pity that we cannot show them some attention!”
“We might accept some attentions from them,” corrected Miss Marsden,
briskly, “if they were properly introduced.”
“But women have to be so careful about the associates they choose when
travelling,” observed Nina, mischievously.
Miss Marsden shook her head. “You will be an apt pupil in the school of
old Father Time, my dear; but I am a class ahead of you yet. I think
that Englishman is the ugliest man I ever saw.”
“So do I,” said Nina, demurely.
“He has an honest ring in his voice, certainly; but given the occasion,
I dare say he will distinguish himself with the best of them.”
“I dare say he drinks,” said Nina. “I guess all men drink when they
aren’t gambling. I expect my husband is as bad as the worst of
them--and lie, too. I suppose Captain Eversleigh didn’t mean a word of
what he said about you.”
Miss Marsden, evidently tired of the conversation, was humming five
lines to herself:
“‘A little idle word,
Breathed in an idle hour;
Between two laughs that word was said,
Forgotten just as fled,
And yet that word had power!’”
Immediately afterward she announced her fixed and inalterable decision
of going to bed; and Nina, who never wished to retire, and having once
retired rarely wished to get up, was obliged to leave her.
The next morning the introductions took place. Captain Fordyce appeared
at the breakfast-table, and, some time after Miss Marsden and Nina had
seated themselves side by side next him, he leaned over and said to the
former in a blunt whisper, “That man wishes an introduction: have you
any objection?”
As “that man” meant Captain Eversleigh, who was listening
unobtrusively, Miss Marsden murmured an assent; and the introduction
was made. Captain Eversleigh then asked Captain Fordyce’s permission
to seat his friend, Mr. Maybury, in the place left vacant by Mr.
Delessert, who was taking his meal no one knew where.
Nina, therefore, had her wish fulfilled. Mr. Maybury was charmed to
pour out his store of semi-bashful, semi-bravado remarks at her feet,
and she shyly accepted his homage, and allowed her husband to devote
himself to his plate.
Breakfast over, they all separated, but, to Nina’s amusement, Miss
Marsden showed a steady inclination to gravitate toward the music-room;
and before the morning was half over, she was striking the opening
chords of one of Chopin’s waltzes.
Her execution was brilliant enough to be remarkable in one not a
professional musician; and Nina alternately listened to her in pleased
surprise, and gazed impatiently at the open door of the room.
There they were at last--their two admirers--looking over each other’s
shoulders, in hesitating indecision. Little by little, allured by the
soulful harmonies, they were drawn into the room; and when Miss Marsden
gently swung around on the stool, she found that they had halted about
as far from the piano as if it were a caged lion, and were uttering
reserved expressions of admiration in respectful tones.
She answered them with distant politeness; but Nina did not open her
lips until she thought it necessary to come to her companion’s rescue.
The young lady had made an extraordinary mistake for a person of her
self-command and composure. A piece of music had slipped from the piano
to the floor, and as Captain Eversleigh picked it up she remarked,
“That song looks as if it would suit your voice.”
An inquiring look flitted over his face, and though he did not speak,
his manner plainly said, “How in the world do you know that I have a
voice?” Blushing like a red, red rose at her blunder, she for a moment
lost the faultless repose of manner that he found so charming, and
dropping her hands on her lap she nervously surveyed her rings.
Nina glanced at the title of the song, “Do Not Forget Me, Darling.”
Even from the solitudes of Rubicon Meadows she knew that it was one of
the most hackneyed of the drawing-room songs of the day. Probably the
naughty lover had sung it to Miss Marsden. Its title recalled him; and
to keep herself from crying she had said the first thing that came into
her mind.
“I guess you mean that it suits my husband’s voice,” she lisped, kindly.
Her air of utter guilelessness, coupled with the ridiculous suggestion
of their reserved commander singing anything so sentimental as the
ditty before them, quite overcame her companions, and they broke into
spontaneous and simultaneous laughter.
“I think Captain Fordyce’s voice would be more after the order of
double bass,” said Captain Eversleigh, controlling himself. “This is
more suited to my after-mess baritone. Will you be kind enough to try
the accompaniment for me?” and placing the music on the rack, he gave
Miss Marsden the opportunity of turning away from them her white face
with its crimson streaks.
Nina and Mr. Maybury retired to a divan. The piano had broken the
ice between them, and for the remainder of the voyage it kept up its
kindly offices. Miss Marsden and Nina found Mr. Maybury to be a cool,
careless, undemonstrative youth, with a mercurial style of conversation
and unlimited stores of nonsense and absurd chatter at his command.
Captain Eversleigh was more of a man of the world; although he, too,
could be nonsensical when occasion required. However, whatever he
might feel, there was not the slightest exhibition of devotion in the
efforts he made for the entertainment of the person who pleased him
most of the passengers on board the _Merrimac_. Indeed, he was more
demonstrative with Mrs. Grayley, when that lady appeared. But she came
out very little during the last few days of the voyage. Her favourite,
Mr. Delessert, was in disgrace, and was lurking in out-of-the-way nooks
of the steamer; therefore she preferred solitude and the darkened room
that kept her hands white.
At last a morning came when the joyful news flew through the ship that
they should be in England before evening.
A kind of resurrection ensued. A curious conglomeration of passengers
issued from the rooms that had been affording them shelter during the
last few days. Numbers of them had never been seen before; and Nina
developed an irresistible tendency to laugh in her sleeve, as they,
for the most part, sneaked on deck with the guilty air of having been
off on a lengthy spree.
However, their pale, seasick faces brightened as the land breeze swept
across the decks; and with vows not loud, but deep, they solemnly bound
themselves never again to exchange the delights of _terra firma_ for a
life on the ocean wave.
Just before lunch Mrs. Grayley came on deck. She languidly sank into
a chair beside Nina, and her eyes wandered to Captain Eversleigh, who
was sitting in the waist of the ship. When he left his comfortable
reclining chair to administer consolation to a child who had fallen
down, she said, “That man has a kind heart if he has an ugly face.”
Miss Marsden and Nina had indulged in numberless speculations in regard
to Captain Eversleigh; for, with characteristic English reserve, he
volunteered but little information about himself.
“Do you know him?” asked Nina, quietly.
“I know about him. He stayed with some friends of mine in New York. He
is on his way to take possession of some property left him by a distant
relative: it will make him quite a rich man.”
Miss Marsden, who was sitting beyond Nina, made no remark; and the
latter again took up the thread of conversation. “Did he get the news
while he was in America?”
“Yes, by cablegram. He is in an English regiment of the line. I dare
say he will leave it and devote himself to taking care of his money.”
“He is rather agreeable to talk to,” drawled Nina.
Mrs. Grayley’s inane face enlivened itself. “You are not doing the poor
fellow justice with your faint praise. My friends whom he visited--the
Dunmoor-Marleys, of New York--said that his aunt, old Lady Glenville,
who lives in Park Lane, London, actually bows down and worships him.
She is a fine old lady, regular English type; rides horseback like
a girl. She brought him up; his parents are dead. Her husband is an
admiral, old Admiral Glenville. I dare say you have heard of him, Miss
Marsden,” and she leaned across Nina to look at Nina’s silent companion.
“No, I have not,” said that young lady, calmly.
“Well, you will if you go to London and go into society. He is as
lively as his wife.”
“Captain Eversleigh will make a good husband for some girl,” said Nina,
with a matronly air.
“Indeed he will,” assented Mrs. Grayley.
Nina had not found out what she wished to know, so she asked,
point-blank, “Is he engaged?”
“No; the Dunmoor-Marleys said that he nearly breaks poor old Lady
Glenville’s heart. She invites all the nice girls she knows to her
house, hoping he will fall in love with one of them; and he tells her
they are all charming, but not half as charming as she is. Now what
can you do with a man like that? Many a girl has gone wild over him,
plain-looking as he is; but he has never yet taken interest enough in a
woman even to hint that he would like to marry her.”
Nina threw Miss Marsden a significant glance, and developed such a
strong tendency to laugh that the young lady said, hastily: “I should
not think that he would be very much sought after if he had only his
captain’s pay.”
“But you don’t understand,” exclaimed Mrs. Grayley. “The Glenvilles are
to leave him their money. He has always been a most eligible _parti_.”
Nina got up and sauntered down the deck, and Mrs. Grayley thoughtfully
contemplated the sea.
“Do you really think he has a kind heart?” asked Miss Marsden,
languidly, “or is he just putting it on?”
“The Dunmoor-Marleys said he was one of the nicest men that ever slept
under their roof.”
“How long was he with them?”
“A week; then he was yachting for another week. Jane Dunmoor-Marley
says: ‘A man that comes after my daughters can fool me on land, even in
my own house; but he can’t on my yacht. Put a man in a cubby-hole, and
if he has any bad qualities they will come out.’ So she always takes
aspiring suitors to sea. You know they have no end of money?”
“Yes, I know. How did this young man Maybury know Captain Eversleigh?”
“They found they had mutual friends. They didn’t know each other when
they came on board. Maybury is half English, anyway. His mother was a
Sefton of Suffolk.”
“Was she? He seems to be devoted to his new friend.”
“The Dunmoor-Marleys said Herbert Eversleigh was a regular man’s man.
Some of his friends would go through fire and water for him. I guess
Jane was sorry she didn’t get him for one of her girls. She has such a
string of them.”
“A string of girls--poor woman!” murmured Miss Marsden.