But my
less poetic tidings should be welcome, also. Walker says he hopes to
get steam up to-morrow."
"Well, tell us quickly," cried Isobel, with a show of intense interest,
when Courtenay had gone. She had decided on a line of conduct, and
meant to follow it carefully. The more sympathy she extended towards
her friend's love idyll, the less likelihood was there of disagreeable
developments in other respects. That trick of calculating gush was
Isobel's chief failing. She was so wrapped up in self that her own
interests governed every thought. Courtenay's reference to letters
sent a wave of alarm pulsing through each nerve. Though his manner
betokened that the affair was something which concerned Elsie alone,
she was on fire until she learnt that his "secret" alluded to the
restored vitality of the ship.
For once, her expressions of gratitude were heartfelt. Mrs. Somerville
even wept for joy. This poor woman after living twenty-five years in
the oasis of a mission-house, was a strange subject for storm-tossed
wandering and fights with cannibals. Seldom has fate conspired with
the fickle sea to sport with such helpless human flotsam, save,
perhaps, in that crowning caprice of the waves which once cast ashore a
live baby in a cradle.
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