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"I wonder if she is in love, too," shot through his mind, and a thrill of regret grew out of the possibility. Once his eye caught her in the act of pressing Hugh's hand as it was being withdrawn from sight. With a knowing smile he bent close to her and whispered: "That's right, cheer him up!" Grace admitted afterward that nothing had ever made her quite so furious as that friendly expression.
But jealousy is jealousy. It will not down. The next three days were miserable ones for Hugh. The green-eyed monster again cast the cloak of moroseness over him--swathed him in the inevitable wet blanket, as it were. During the first two days Veath had performed a hundred little acts of gallantry which fall to the lot of a lover but hardly to that of a brother--a score of things that would not have been observed by the latter, but which were inwardly cursed by the lover. Hugh began to have the unreasonable fear that she cared more for Veath's society than she did for his. He was in ugly humor at lunch time and sent a rather peremptory message to Grace's room, telling her that he was hungry and asking her to get ready at once. The steward brought back word that she was not in her room. She had been out since ten o'clock.
Without a word Ridgeway bolted to Veath's room and knocked at the door.
There was no response. The steward, quite a distance down the pa.s.sageway, heard the American gentleman swear distinctly and impressively.
He ate his luncheon alone,--disconsolate, furious, miserable. Afterward he sought recreation and finally went to his room, where he tried to read. Even that was impossible.
Some time later he heard her voice, then Veath's.
"I wonder if Hugh is in his room?" she was asking.
"He probably thinks we've taken a boat and eloped Shall I rap and see?"
came in Veath's free voice.
"Please--and we'll tell him where we have been."
"You will like thunder!" hissed Hugh to himself, glaring at the door as if he could demolish it.
Then came a vigorous pounding on the panel; but he made no move to respond. Again the knocking and a smile, not of mirth, overspread his face.
"Knock! Confound you! You can't get in!" he growled softly but triumphantly. Veath tried the k.n.o.b, but the door was locked.
"He's not in, Miss Ridge. I'll see if I can find him. Good-by--see you at luncheon."
Then came Grace's voice, sweet and untroubled: "Tell him we'll go over the s.h.i.+p another time with _him_."
"Over the s.h.i.+p," growled Hugh almost loud enough to be heard. "So they're going to square it by taking brother with them another time--eh?
Well, not if I know it! I'll show her what's what!" A minute later he rapped at Miss Vernon's stateroom. She was removing her hat before the mirror, and turning quickly as the irate Hugh entered, she cried:
"h.e.l.lo, Hugh! Where have you been, dear?"
"Dear! Don't call me dear," he rasped.
"Why, Hugh, dear,--Mr. Veath looked everywhere for you this morning. I said I would not go unless he could find you. You would have enjoyed it so much."
"And you really wanted me?" he asked guiltily.
"Of course, I did--we both did. Won't you ever understand that I love you--and you alone?"
"I guess I'll never understand love at all," he mused.
"Now where were you all morning?" she demanded.
"He didn't look in the right place, that's all."
"Where was the right place?"
"It happened to be in the wrong place," he said. He had been playing a social game of bridge in the room of one of the pa.s.sengers. At this moment Veath was heard at the door. Hugh heartily called out to him, bidding him to enter.
"Why, here you are! Been looking everywhere for you, old man. Sorry you were not along this morning," said the newcomer, shaking Ridgeway's hand.
"I didn't care to see the s.h.i.+p," said Hugh hastily.
"Why, how funny!" cried Grace. "How did you know we had been over the s.h.i.+p?"
"Instinct," he managed to gulp in the confusion.
Veath started for the dining-room, followed by Grace and Hugh, the latter refraining from mentioning that he had already lunched--insufficiently though it had been; but with the return of reason had come back his appet.i.te and gradually he felt the old happiness sifting into his heart.
CHAPTER VIII
THE BEAUTIFUL STRANGER
They were now well along in the Mediterranean. The air was cool and crisp, yet there were dozens of people on deck watching the sunset and the sailors who were tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the s.h.i.+p. There were pa.s.sengers on board for China, j.a.pan, India and Australia. A half hundred soldiers, returning to the East, after a long furlough at home, made the s.h.i.+p lively. They were under loose discipline and were inclined to be hilarious. A number were forward now, singing the battle songs of the British and the weird ones of the natives. Quite a crowd had collected to listen, including Ridgeway and Veath, who were strolling along the deck, arm in arm, enjoying an after-dinner smoke, and had paused in their walk near the group, enjoying the robust, devil-may-care tones of the gallant subalterns.
Miss Vernon was in her stateroom trying to jot down in a newly opened diary the events of the past ten days. She was up to ears in the work, and was almost overcome by its enthusiasm. It was to be a surprise for Hugh at some distant day, when she could have it printed and bound for him alone. There was to be but one copy printed, positively, and it was to belong to Hugh. Her lover as he strode the deck was unconscious of the task unto which she had bent her energy. He knew nothing of the unheard-of intricacies in punctuation, spelling and phraseology. She was forced at one time to write Med and a dash, declaring, in chagrin, that she would add the remainder of the word when she could get to a place where a dictionary might tell her whether it was spelled Mediterranean or Mediteranian.
Suddenly, Hugh pressed Veath's arm a little closer.
"Look over there near the rail. There's the prettiest girl I've ever seen!"
"Where?"
"Can't point, because she's looking this way. Girl with a dark green coat, leaning on an old gentleman's arm--"
"I see," interrupted Veath. "By George! she's pretty!"
"No name for it! Have you in your life ever seen anything so beautiful?"
cried Ridgeway. He stared at her so intently that she averted her face.
"Wonder who she can be? The old man must be her father. Strange we haven't seen them before. I'm sure that she hasn't been on deck."
"You seem interested--do you want a flirtation?"
"Oh, Grace wouldn't stand for that--not for a minute."
"I don't believe she would object if you carried it on skilfully,"
smiled the other.
"It wouldn't be right, no matter how harmless. I couldn't think of being so confoundedly brutal."
"Sisters don't usually take such things to heart."
Hugh came to himself with a start and for a moment or two could find no word of response, so deeply engrossed was he in the effort to remember whether he had said anything that might have betrayed his secret.
"Oh," he laughed awkwardly, "you don't understand me. Grace is so--well, so--conscientious, that if she thought I was--er--trifling, you know, with a girl, she'd--she'd have a fit. Funniest girl you ever saw about those things--perfect paragon."