Vera, finding herself for the first time in distinguished company, which desired to set her at ease, began to be at ease, and to desire to shine, so she giggled whenever she perceived the slightest excuse, even when Lord Ivinghoe handed her the eggs, and, hoped she had not too British an appetite for French eggs; and Lady Ivinghoe asked if she had seen the fowls, and whether their feathers were ruffled up like a hen's that had been given to Aunt Cherry. Her little sister Joan, she added, had asked whether eating the eggs would make her hair curl.
"Or stand on end," said Phyllis.
"As I am afraid Miss Prescott's is doing till your telegram reaches her. Did you say it was to go from St. Malo?"
"Yes. I thought that the safest place to have a comprehensible message copied."
"To whom did you say?" asked Lady Ivinghoe.
"'Delrio to Flight.' Oh, they will know his name and address fast enough when it gets to Rock Quay."
"He is the clergyman at St. Kenelm's," put in Vera, in explanation; "very very advanced Ritualist, you know."
"Indeed!" was the answer.
"Oh, yes, that he is. My sister Polly is perfectly devoted to him; but we don't go to his church, except now and then, because my eldest sister is just one of those very old-fashioned people, you know, who want everything horrid and dull."
"That is hardly what our cousins think of Miss Prescott," said Phyllis. "I am so sorry for her anxiety! But I was not sure of the name of her place."
"The Goyle! Isn't it frightful?" said Vera.
"You say she was unprepared for your adventure?"
"Oh, yes, quite. Her notions are so dreadfully proper and old fashioned. She hasn't got any sympathy, has she, Hubert?"
"I don't know," he said gravely. "I have always had the greatest respect for her."
"Respect! So you ought. That's just the thing one has for a slow dear old fogey," she said, laughing, "Oh, Hubert!" There was a silence, and Lord Rotherwood made an observation upon the wind.
Vera perceived an awkwardness, and, by way of repairing it, afterwards thought it expedient to communicate to Lady Phyllis that it might be a pity she had said "Hubert." It was so awkward, only he was such an old acquaintance.
"I should have thought the awkwardness was incurred long ago," said Lady Phyllis. "Come, you will have no more concealments from Miss Prescott, will you? You will be ever so much more comfortable, and find out how kind she is."
"Oh, but!-" Vera wanted to talk over all her grievances for the pleasure of talking, saying very much what she had said before, and Phyllis tried to endure and put in as much sense as she could, without lecturing the girl, who struck her as the very silliest she had ever encountered; but she was continually called off to admire the receding French coast, or to look at the creatures brought up by dredging. She always took care to call Vera, and not let her feel herself left out; but Vera, if in solitude for a moment, reflected on the neglect shown of little people by great ones; and when called up to see uncanny slimy creatures, or even transparent balls like watery umbrellas, only was disgusted and horrified.
She began to guess, rather truly, that Lady Phyllis wanted to hinder a tête-à-tête between her and Hubert Delrio. In fact, Lord Rotherwood, who was much more of a sympathetic, confidence-inviting personage than his stiffer, much older seeming son, had said to his daughter, "Don't let that poor lad and the girl get together alone, Fly; the boy thinks he is bound to make her an offer."
"Oh, father! Surely not!"
"No more than if they had been two babies in a walnut shell. So I told him, but people don't see what infants they are themselves, and I want to hinder him from putting his foot in it before he has seen her aunt-cousin-sister, or whoever it is that has the charge of her; and she has depicted to him a Gorgon, with Medusa's hair, claws and all -a fancy sketch, isn't it?"
"Of course, sentimental schoolgirl colours! Mysie thinks her delightful."
"At any rate, let him get a dose of common sense before committing himself. He is a capital fellow, sure to rise; has the soul and head and hands for it, but he ought not to weight himself with a drag."
"Do you think he is really in love with her?"
Lord Rotherwood waved his hands. "He thinks so, but nobody knows with those boys! I had to tell him at last that I would not have any philandering on board my ship; and whatever he might think it his duty to say, must be put off for aunt-sister-Gorgon-Medusa or what not. And I don't think he's very bad, Fly, for he modestly asked permission to sketch Francie's head for St. Mildred, or Milburg, or somebody; and was ready to run crazy about the tints on that dogfish. The young fellow is in the queerest state between the artist and the lover! delight and shame! I should like to take him north with us; the colours of the cliffs in the Isles would soon drive out Miss Victoria- what's her name?"
"You don't think him like Stephen in the Mill on the Floss, who ought to have married Maggie Tulliver."
"I believe that is his precedent-but it is sheer stuff-pure accident-as a respectable old householder like me is ready to testify to the Gorgons and Chimeras dire-Grundys and all. We must encounter Rock Quay, Fly, if it is only to rescue this unlucky youth."
"What is he doing now? Oh, I see; drawing Francie, who sits as stiff as a Saint of Burne-Jones! Well, I'll have an eye to them! Vera! Have you finished Rudder Grange?"
"Not quite. I can't make out who Lord Edward was."
"Why, the big dog! Did you think he was Pomona's hero?"
"I don't know. Wasn't Pomona very silly?"
"If life was to be taken from story-books," said Phyllis, in a very didactic mood; "but you see she imbibed the best side, what they really taught her of good."
"I thought, when you gave me the book, it was to be an adventure like mine, not all standing still in an old river. What do you think Hubert Delrio ought to do after persuading me into such an awful predicament?"
"Tell your sister he is very sorry that you two foolish children got into such a scrape, and very thankful that you were saved."
"We are very thankful to Lord Rotherwood."
"I didn't mean to him. To some One else," said Phyllis, reverently.
"Oh, of course," said Vera. "But what do you think, Lady Phyllis?" (Since her discovery of the title she made a liberal use of it.) "What do you think people will say?"
"That a little girl has had a dangerous adventure and a happy escape."
"I am seventeen, Lady Phyllis!"
"One is nothing like grown up at seventeen! I declare there's a big steamer coming into sight. I wonder if it belongs to the Channel Fleet!"
Nothing more sentimental could be extracted for the rest of the voyage.
CHAPTER XIV-PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED
"I marry without more ado,
My dear Dick Red Cap, what say you?"
COWPER.
The telegram had been received about mid-day; and Mr. Flight rushed up with it to the Goyle, just in time to prevent poor old Mr. Delrio from starting hopelessly home. It had suffered a good deal in spelling and precision, in spite of Lady Phyllis's precautions; but "both safe" was understood, as it was known in Rock Quay that "Lord Rotherwood and family," as the papers had it, were yachting in the Kittiwake and might be expected in the bay.
Agatha and Paula threw their arms round one another and cried; Magdalen, with a choke in her voice, struggled to ask Mr. Flight to lead them in a few words of thanksgiving; and as soon as these were over, Thekla expressed her hopes that they had been cast on a desert island and would bring home Man Friday.