The judge reported as to her mother, and Mr. Breckon, after the exchange of a silent salutation with the girl, had a gleeful moment in describing Boyne's revolt at the steward's notion of gruel. "I'm glad to see you so well, Miss Kenton," he concluded.
"I suppose I will be sick, too, if it gets rougher," she said, and she turned from him to give a rather compendious order to the table steward.
"Well, you've got an appetite, Ellen," her father ventured.
"I don't believe I will eat anything," she checked him, with a falling face.
Breckon came to the aid of the judge. "If you're not sick now, Iprophesy you won't be, Miss Kenton. It can't get much rougher, without doing something uncommon.""Is it a storm?" she asked, indifferently.
"It's what they call half a gale, I believe. I don't know how they measure it."She smiled warily in response to his laugh, and said to her father, "Are you going up after breakfast, poppa?""Why, if you want to go, Ellen--"
"Oh, I wasn't asking for that; I am going back to Lottie. But I should think you would like the air. Won't it do you good?""I'm all right," said the judge, cheered by her show of concern for some one else. "I suppose it's rather wet on deck?" he referred himself to Breckon.
"Well, not very, if you keep to the leeward. She doesn't seem a very wet boat.""What is a wet boat" Ellen asked, without lifting her sad eyes.
"Well, really, I'm afraid it's largely a superstition. Passengers like to believe that some boats are less liable to ship seas--to run into waves--than others; but I fancy that's to give themselves the air of old travellers."She let the matter lapse so entirely that he supposed she had forgotten it in all its bearings, when she asked, "Have you been across many times?""Not many-four or five."
"This is our first time," she volunteered.
"I hope it won't be your last. I know you will enjoy it." She fell listless again, and Breckon imagined he had made a break. "Not," he added, with an endeavor for lightness, "that I suppose you're going for pleasure altogether. Women, nowadays, are above that, I understand.
They go abroad for art's sake, and to study political economy, and history, and literature--""My daughter," the judge interposed, "will not do much in that way, Ihope."
The girl bent her head over her plate and frowned.
"Oh, then," said Breckon, "I will believe that she's going for purely selfish enjoyment. I should like to be justified in ****** that my object by a good example."Ellen looked up and gave him a look that cut him short in his glad note.
The lifting of her eyelids was like the rise of the curtain upon some scene of tragedy which was all the more impressive because it seemed somehow mixed with shame. This poor girl, whom he had pitied as an invalid, was a sufferer from some spiritual blight more pathetic than broken health. He pulled his mind away from the conjecture that tempted it and went on: "One of the advantages of going over the fourth or fifth time is that you're relieved from a discoverer's duties to Europe. I've got absolutely nothing before me now, but at first I had to examine every object of interest on the Continent, and form an opinion about thousands of objects that had no interest for me. I hope Miss Kenton will take warning from me."He had not addressed Ellen directly, and her father answered: "We have no definite plans as yet, but we don't mean to overwork ourselves even if we've come for a rest. I don't know," he added, "but we had better spend our summer in England. It's easier getting about where you know the language.
The judge seemed to refer his ideas to Breckon for criticism, and the young man felt authorized to say, "Oh, so many of them know the language everywhere now, that it's easy getting about in any country.""Yes, I suppose so," the judge vaguely deferred.
"Which," Ellen demanded of the young man with a nervous suddenness, "do you think is the most interesting country?"He found himself answering with equal promptness, "Oh, Italy, of course.""Can we go to Italy, poppa?" asked the girl.
