While sampling the tiers of candies—each box vying with another in
artistic decorations—and then sniffing at the pyramids of flowers sent
by loving friends to the voyagers, the girls gossiped of the recent
events, the first experiences of their trip South.
From this form of light conversation, the talk drifted to the discussion
of the weather and the waves. The sea was not as smooth and glassy as it
might have been, and the vessel these bragging maids were now on was not
as firm and quiet under foot as the Oceanic or the Aquitania. In fact,
every huge roller seemed to heave the dainty White Crest up at one end
and let it drop at the other. This rather unpleasant tumbling created a
slight sense of discomfort in the bosoms of the passengers.
Several boxes of the richest bon bons had been emptied by the group of
girls before Mrs. Courtney came in to join them. The moment she saw the
boxes, and the girls lounging about nibbling at the sweets, she declared
anxiously: “Oh, my dears! Better not eat candy to-night, you know. If we
come into smoother water before to-morrow you will have ample time to
finish these boxes of candy.”
Elizabeth laughed, with the suggestion of a sneer in her tone. “Any one
would think, dear Mrs. Courtney, that we were not good sailors. _You_
might find it necessary to deprive yourself of certain good things to
eat, but _I_ have crossed several times and I am _never_ troubled with
_mal de mer_.”
“Polly and I never felt a qualm when we went over last year; but that
was on a great gigantic steamer that felt different from this rocking.”
As Eleanor spoke she dropped a tempting chocolate cream back into the
box.
“I was about to remark, just as Mrs. Courtney came in, that it might be
wiser for us to defer sampling the rest of the candy until to-morrow.
This unusual rocking between the tops and the bottoms of the waves is a
bit uncanny—don’t you agree with me?” Polly looked concerned at the
sensation she felt.
Elizabeth laughed unkindly. “You are in for a lovely time, my dear
child!”
“Well, I’ve crossed three times myself,” now said Nancy Fabian, “but I
will admit that this upheaval of the waves is causing me to worry some
over my emotions.” Her friends laughed.
“This sea-sick business is only a matter of self-control, I think!”
declared Elizabeth, with a superior smile. “Naturally, if one dreads it,
one will feel more uncertain of keeping up. Now _I_ never permit myself
to dwell upon the disgusting thought of such a condition, and I am as
regular at the table each meal as the old sea-seasoned Captains. I have
been complimented by the Captains on having good sea-going nerves.”
Mrs. Courtney listened but offered no contribution to the conversation.
Polly was about to make a remark when a tap at the door drew the
attention of the occupants of the room.
“Come in,” said Eleanor, who sat nearest the door. It was a uniformed
boy who came to announce afternoon tea on deck. “Mr. Dalken says to tell
you’se all that every one is there waitin’ fer ye’se.”
“All right, thank you. We’ll be there in a moment,” said Eleanor, then
she closed the door again. “Any one here want tea? We have had so much
candy that I don’t see how we can eat cake or buns.”
“We will go up and join the others, however,” added Mrs. Courtney,
rising to lead the way from the state room.
“But, my dears!” exclaimed Elizabeth in shocked tones. “_Surely_ you
would not sit down to afternoon tea in these street suits?”
“Of course, Elizabeth. Your father made it very plain that this was to
be a rest and pleasure voyage, and not one for dress or social customs.
We were asked to live exactly as if we were at home in our own little
apartments with no one but family members near,” explained Mrs.
Courtney, kindly.
“Well, that may do all right for you, Mrs. Courtney, but I, for one,
shall never lower my dignity and social prestige to such a degree that I
would have to feel like apologizing to myself for my appearances.” With
this rude explanation Elizabeth flounced from the room and went directly
to her own stateroom.
Her erstwhile companions, believing she would change her dress and make
an elaborate toilet before joining her father’s guests on deck, paid no
further attention to her absence. But they hurried out of the room where
Elizabeth had indulged in overmuch sweets and fruits, and were soon
ensconced in comfortable chairs on deck with the elders who were sipping
fragrant tea and enjoying tea cakes.
Tom made room on the divan for Polly, and she had not the initiative to
refuse to sit beside him. She could not describe the lack of interest
she felt in her friends, or the glorious sky and weather. John and Anne
were laughing and exchanging their opinions with Mr. Dalken on the
quality of his chef. It was the mutual vote of those present that the
cook was a genuine find. John even said it was an appeal to the male to
remain on the yacht and continue the trip to the Andes.
The crispy brown cakes were so tempting, and the high praise from the
men sounded so alluring, that the girls helped themselves to the
refreshments provided. An unusually heavy roller caused a little tremor
in the minds of most of the mariners, but the sandwiches and cakes were
not neglected for such a small cause.
“Why, of all things!” cried Polly, glancing at the coast line which was
standing out clearly defined from the changing hues in the sky. “Here we
are off Atlantic Highlands already! It seems just a moment since we
passed Sandy Hook.”
“At this rate I fear we will land in Peru long before we are ready to
leave the ship,” laughed Eleanor, munching on a chicken sandwich.
For the space of half an hour thereafter, the group of gourmands
(self-styled as gourmands because they ate so much of the delicious
viands provided by the chef) admired the setting sun and the colors
reflected in the sea by the clouds. No one had missed Elizabeth as yet,
because every one was busy with the tea table. But now Mr. Dalken
glanced uneasily around at the faces so familiar to him, and wondered
aloud: “Why, where is Totty?”
His companions glanced from one to the other, and Mrs. Courtney, fearing
lest Polly in her frankness might blurt out the truth about suitable
dressing for tea, explained: “Elizabeth left us to go to her own room to
change her dress. She thought the tailor-made street suit rather heavy
and uncomfortable for lounging about a tea table.”
Those who had heard Elizabeth’s unkind remark to Mrs. Courtney silently
commended her kind interpretation of the girl’s sentence. Mr. Dalken,
believing his daughter would soon appear, felt satisfied to wait for her
coming. Then the sudden sinking to the horizon of the great sun-ball of
red caused various exclamations of admiration, and also drew the friends
to that side of the yacht where the sunset could be seen to the greatest
advantage.
As the sun set the wind rose. In a short time a perfect gale was tearing
across the waters, and the waves rose accordingly. In fact, so mighty
became the rollers, and so uncertain the footing on board the yacht,
that it was a risk for the “land-lubbers” to attempt to walk recklessly
about the deck. Giant waves, every now and then, washed over the swiftly
flying yacht and sprayed the voyagers with salty drops, and Mr. Dalken
advised them all to go in and rest before dinner was announced.
Perhaps it was due to obeying his advice to lie down for a short time;
perhaps it was the partaking of too much of the delicious viands
provided by the jewel of a chef; perhaps it was just plain old sea
sickness—but whatever it was, let it here be stated that only two adults
appeared in the dining room that evening for dinner: Mrs. Courtney and
Mr. Dalken.
Having waited and waited for the appearance of the others in their
party, and having ascertained by continued perseverance of a
questionnaire, in the form of a ’phone, that his guests preferred to
dine in bed, Mr. Dalken finally concluded to eat. Therefore he sent word
by said ’phone to ascertain how many trays would be wanted by sick
friends.
The reply caused Mrs. Courtney a hearty laugh, while Mr. Dalken found
ample pleasure for the next week in referring to that night’s
experience, and to their curt thanks to his humanitarian impulses.
Elizabeth had not joined her father’s guests at tea that late afternoon
for the very good reason that she threw herself upon the bed in her room
and was glad enough to remain there for several days. She had eaten
three times as much candy and fruit as any one of her companions, and
now she was paying the price for self-indulgence. Where now were all her
brags about being such a splendid sailor!
It was not an individual weakness on the part of Polly and Eleanor that
they succumbed to the attack of sea sickness soon after they reached
their small rooms. But they were not aware at the time that _all_
adults, excepting Mr. Dalken and Mrs. Courtney, had decided against
dining that night, and remained in their own rooms instead. Had the two
girls dreamed of the truth, that the two pawns in their match-making
game were enjoying a tête-à-tête dinner and evening together, this
knowledge would have done much to console them for their weird
sensations within.
As the evening advanced the gale increased, and those who felt too ill
to leave their beds feared lest they _might_ survive till morning. The
yacht could not sink quick enough to please them. Elizabeth was one of
this group of morbid sailors. The members of the other group who felt
able to hold up their heads and take a squint at the turbulent waters
and sky now and then when the craft seemed to spin about on a pivot, or
suddenly soar to the sky and as quickly change its course to sink to the
bottom of the sea, prayed and prayed that the shores of Florida might
loom up within the next few hours—that they might go ashore.
These prayers, being selfish ones, were not answered, and the coast of
Florida remained where it had been placed in the order of arranging the
New World.
Having managed to drag herself across her room to the porthole, Polly
looked out to see whether the moon was the next stop. She thought the
yacht had been going, prow upwards, for the last hour. To her amazement
she saw they were still on the sea, but such a sea! So tumbled and
troubled that she wished for oil to pour upon it.
Eleanor and Polly shared one room, and now Eleanor lifted her head and
wailed: “What do you see, Poll?”
“I see sea, that’s all. Oh, my head!” and Polly fell into a chair and
caught her head between her hands.
In spite of her wish to die, Eleanor could not refrain from laughing at
her chum. “I should have said you see saw, instead of see sea, judging
from the ‘now we go up, and now we go down’ behavior of the board we are
on.”
But no answering smile came from Polly’s somber face.
Eleanor, not to be discouraged in her wish to help her friend cheer up,
murmured: “If we feel this way, Poll, how do you suppose precious Totty
is doing?”
This struck Polly’s sense of humor at the right moment. She had to laugh
in spite of her wish to ponder on death and the hereafter. The picture
of Elizabeth as she bragged of her seamanship, gave cause to a duet of
merriment from the two girls. This acted like a tonic, and thenceforth
they began to feel easier. Then, too, the gale had spent its fury and
began gradually to calm down.
A soft knock on the door of their room brought forth the command to come
in. Mrs. Courtney, looking magnificent in her simple but elegant dinner
gown entered with a cheerful smile for the girls.
“Well, well! Where are the seasoned ocean travelers?” said she in a
quizzing tone.
“Lost! Went down off Sandy Hook!” retorted Eleanor.
“Who are these shadows in their place?” continued Mrs. Courtney,
teasingly.
“Never mind who we are,” was Polly’s laughing rejoinder, “but tell us
this much: where is Elizabeth, and what is she doing?”
“That I cannot say, my dears, till after Mr. Dalken comes from his
daughter’s room. I left him just now about to visit her, then I came in
here to see you. I understand she wishes to die without delay.”
This seemed to tickle Polly and Eleanor greatly. They actually exchanged
delighted glances, and Eleanor said: “Serves her right.”
“Oh, come,” returned Mrs. Courtney, “don’t say that. The poor child has
never had any real example of what is right and good, so how can one
expect of her what we do of girls like you and Polly?”
“Well,” said Polly, swinging her feet out of bed, “I believe I am able
to sit up and enjoy this visit. The sea must be calming down
considerably from the smooth manner in which the yacht is moving.”
But Polly spoke too soon. The moment she tried to stand upon her feet
she swayed uncertainly and her head spun around like a top. Mrs.
Courtney sprang over and caught her arm and steadied her till she got
back to bed. Eleanor giggled unmercifully.
“Better stay put, Poll, till morning. Then we’ll practice before we show
off.”
All that night the waves which had caused the pitching and rolling of
the vessel kept up a heavy under-swell that made the yacht shudder and
tremble uncertainly. At times it seemed as if the great gaping rollers
wished to gulp the small craft in one swallow. But inside the
comfortable rooms of the yacht, the _un_comfortable passengers waited
patiently for the heavy seas to quiet down again.
After leaving his daughter’s room, Mr. Dalken went forward to find the
First Mate who had said he had graduated from a medical college out
west. Having found the man, Mr. Dalken called him by his title of
doctor.
“I have a plan to suggest, Dr. Braxton, which ought to cure all our
seasick passengers. I want you to visit each one in a professional way
and diagnose their conditions. Do not find any one suffering from sea
sickness, but find some light cause for their indisposition and be sure
and tell them so. I have an idea that the test of changing their minds
about the cause of their being in bed will change their physical
conditions, too. Will you do this for me? Take your medicine chest and
leave each one some melted licorice in water. Tell them to take a
tablespoonful of this wonderful tonic every hour—then we’ll see.”
“Why, Mr. Dalken, you would not have me tell these poor people that they
are not ill with sea sickness, would you? It would be unkind of us to do
that,” objected the poor young man.
“Now listen, my good friend. I’ve heard said, over and over again, that
seasickness is mostly due to fear and _concern_ over one’s having it.
The pneumogastric nerve acts with the mental condition of the patient—we
all know that. And this nerve, it is claimed, is directly affected in a
manner to make the ill one think he cannot move, or get up, or eat. I
want to cure my friends in a hurry, and I want you to help me cure them.
That is real kindness—not unkindness.”
The interested young man asked what more would be required of him, and
Mr. Dalken explained. In a short time thereafter, Dr. Braxton called
upon his first patient. It happened to be Mr. Fabian.
After using all the usual methods of taking pulse, looking at the
tongue, feeling of the heart, and taking the temperature, the young
physician said:
“I’m happy to say, Mr. Fabian, that this attack is not a case of
sea-sickness at all, but acute comatose condition of the digestive
glands. You might have experienced the same illness had you been at
home. Now I shall leave you this wonderful remedy to take every hour,
and in the morning you will feel fine. Three doses of this ought to put
you right as a trivet.”
Mr. Fabian was so glad to hear he had not had an attack of sea-sickness
that he thanked the doctor and said he felt sure he would be around in
the morning.
Having visited all the sick-abed members of Mr. Dalken’s party, and
found one suffering from a slight attack of gastritis, another with
rheumatic neurosis of the abdomen, and many other queer complaints that
have never been heard of before or since that night, and then having
left the great cure-all medicine for each and every one stricken, the
willing physician went to report to Mr. Dalken.