“That is my private signal at the main truck. It was designed by Miss
Rieppe.”
As I again intelligently nodded, I saw the boatswain move an elbow into
the ribs of one of the quartermasters.
“On the staff at the taffrail I have the United States yacht ensign,”
Charley continued. “That’s all,” he said, looking about for more flags,
and (to his disappointment, I think) finding no more. For he added: “But
at twelve o’c--at eight bells, the crew’s meal-flag will be in the
port fore rigging. While we are at lunch, my meal-flag will be in the
starboard main rigging.”
“It should be there all day,” I was tempted to remark to him, as my
wandering eye fell on the cabin boy carrying something more on a plate
to Kitty. But instead of this I said: “Well, she’s a beautiful boat!”
Charley shook his head. “I’m going to get rid of her.”
I was surprised. “Isn’t she all right?” It seemed to me that the crew
behind us were very attentive now.
“There is not enough refrigerator space,” said Charley. One of the
deck-hands whirled round instantly; but stolidity sat like adamant upon
the faces of the others as Charley turned in their direction, and we
continued our tour of the Hermana. Thus the little banker let me see
his little soul, deep down; and there I saw that to pass for a real
yachtsman--which he would never be able to do--was dearer to his pride
than to bring off successfully some huge and delicate matter in the
world’s finance--which he could always do supremely well. “I’m just like
that, too,” I thought to myself; and we returned to the gay Kitty.
But Kitty, despite her gayety, had serious thoughts upon her mind.
Charley’s attentions to me had met all that politeness required, and
as we went aft again, his sister caused certain movements and
rearrangements to happen with chairs and people. I didn’t know this at
once, but I knew it when I found myself somehow sitting with her and
John, and saw Hortense with Charley. Hortense looked over at Kitty with
a something that had in it both raised eyebrows and a shrug, though
these visible signs did not occur; and, indeed, so far as anything
visible went (except the look) you might have supposed that now Hortense
had no thoughts for any man in the world save Charley. And John was
plainly more at ease with Kitty! He began to make himself agreeable, so
that once or twice she gave him a glance of surprise. There was nothing
to mark him out from the others, except his paleness in the midst of
their redness. Yachting clothes bring out wonderfully how much you are
in the habit of eating and drinking; and an innocent stranger might have
supposed that the Replacers were richly sunburned from exposure to the
blazing waters of Cuba and the tropics. Kitty deemed it suitable to
extol Kings Port to John. “Quaint” was the word that did most of this
work for her; she found everything that, even the negroes; and when
she had come to the end of it, she supposed the inside must be just as
“quaint” as the outside.
“It is,” said John Mayrant. He was enjoying Kitty. Then he became
impertinent. “You ought to see it.”
“Do you stay inside much?” said Kitty.
“We all do,” said John. “Some of us never come out.”
“But you came out?” Kitty suggested.
“Oh, I’ve been out,” John returned. He was getting older. I doubt if the
past few years of his life had matured him as much as had the past few
days. Then he looked at Kitty in the eyes. “And I’d always come out--if
Romance rang the bell.”
“Hm!” said Kitty. “Then you know that ring?”
“We begin to hear it early in Kings Port,” remarked John. “About the age
of fourteen.”
Kitty looked at him with an interest that now plainly revealed
curiosity also. It occurred to me that he could not have found any
great embarrassment in getting on at Newport. “What if I rang the bell
myself?” explained Kitty.
“Come in the evening,” returned John. “We won’t go home till morning.”
Kitty kissed her hand to him, and, during the pleased giggle that
she gave, I saw her first taking in John and then Hortense. Kitty
was thinking, thinking, of John’s “crudity.” And so I made a little
experiment for myself.
“I wonder if men seem as similar in making love as women do in receiving
it?”
“They aren’t!” shouted both John and Kitty, in the same indignant
breath. Their noise brought Bohm to listen to us.
This experiment was so much a success that I promptly made another
for the special benefit of Bohm, Kitty’s next husband. I find it often
delightful to make a little gratuitous mischief, just to watch the
victims. I addressed Kitty. “What would you do if a man said he could
drown in your hair as joyfully as the Duke of Clarence did in his butt
of Malmsey?”
“Why--why--” gasped Kitty, “why--why--”