CHAPTER III.
THE DEEP SEA.
Such a pleasant bustle, as the passengers came streaming into the cabin!Everyone seemed to have made or met some friend, with the exception of afew shy-looking, lonesome persons, and Molly devoutly hoped that thesewould find some congenial souls before very long and not be so forlorn.She and her mother had made such a fine beginning in the way of pleasantacquaintances that she wished the same good luck to all on board.
Their seats were next to the Captain, with Mr. Kinsella and Pierceopposite. The Captain was just what a captain ought to be: big andhearty, blond and bearded, with a booming laugh. "Like a Viking of old,"whispered Molly to her mother.
"Good sailor, madam?" asked the Captain of Mrs. Brown.
"A Mississippi steamboat is the only test I have given myself so far,but my daughter and I are hoping we will prove good sailors," answeredhis neighbor. "We are evidently expected to be sick by our friends, asseveral of them have sent us remedies. Champagne from one, crystallizedginger from another and a box of big black pills from a third that lookfor all the world like shoe buttons."
"Well, don't trust to any of them. If you are sick, get on deck all youcan and don't waste your champagne on seasickness, but get ginger ale,which is much cheaper and quite as effective," boomed the Captain with alaugh that made the glasses rattle.
Molly wished they would stop talking about seasickness! The food lookedgood. A plate of cream celery soup had just been placed in front of her.It seemed all that celery soup should be, but a qualm had suddenlyarisen in her soul, (at least she called it her soul,) and she decidedto let the soup go and wait for the next course.
"Uncle Tom, I have met an old friend of yours on board; also anacquaintance of my own from the Art Students' League," said Pierce assoon as the business of eating was well under way.
"Is that so? I'll bet on you for nosing around to find out things! Whois the gentleman?" inquired Mr. Kinsella.
"Gentleman much! It's a lady, and a very beautiful lady at that, whocomplimented you greatly by saying you looked like me," laughed the boy."Her name is Mrs. Huntington."
"Huntington? I know no one of that name that I can remember. She must besome casual acquaintance who has slipped from my memory."
"Well, maybe,--anyhow, she called you Tom. Her daughter, Miss EliseO'Brien, is my friend."
Mr. Kinsella's face flushed and his somber eyes lit up with what Mollythought an angry light.
"So," he muttered, "she has married again. Yes, yes, my boy, I--I didknow a Miss Lizzie Peck in my youth who married an old friend of mine,George O'Brien. I have not seen or heard of them for years and did notknow George was dead. I shall take great pleasure in meeting his littlegirl."
"Little! She is as tall as Miss Brown, who is certainly not stumpy, andis some years older, if I am any judge of the fair sex."
"Of course you are a judge of the fair sex, a most competent one, Ishould say. What boy of eighteen is not?" teased his uncle. "Where areyour new acquaintances seated?"
"They are at the other end of the next table with their backs to us. Youwill have to rubber a little to get a good view of them."
Mr. Kinsella accordingly "rubbered," as his slangy nephew put it, andsatisfied himself of the identity of Mrs. Huntington. Molly was greatlyinterested in the occurrence. Mr. Kinsella was different from anyone shehad ever seen before and Pierce's hint of a disappointed life had firedher imagination, ever ready for a romance. She had a feeling that theproud, beautiful, inconsiderate woman whose acquaintance she hadrecently made was in some way connected with Mr. Kinsella'sdisappointment.
Soup was removed and the next course of baked bluefish brought on.Molly's senses reeled and a drowsy numbness stole over her. "What astrange feeling! What on earth is the matter with me? I was so hungrywhen I came down here and now I can't touch a thing," she said toherself.
Mr. Kinsella was watching her and finally spoke:
"My dear Miss Brown, let me take you on deck. You will feel much betterin the air."
"Why, my darling daughter, are you sick?" inquired the anxious mother,who was eating her dinner with the greatest enjoyment.
"I believe I'll go to bed," gasped poor Molly. "But don't you come,Mother. I'll be better in a minute."
A grim smile went down the Captain's table as Molly beat a hasty andignominious retreat. Mrs. Huntington was heard to remark to her daughteras a white and hollow-eyed Molly flew past their chairs on the way toher stateroom: "There goes that red-headed girl from Kentucky, who wasso rude to me on deck. I fancy we can occupy her chairs for a whilelonger."
"Oh, Mamma, why do we not have chairs of our own? It is so embarrassingto sponge on other people all the time, and the expense of chairs is notvery great," implored Elise.
"Nonsense, Elise; I have crossed the ocean innumerable times and neverget chairs. There are always enough seasick people who have to stay intheir bunks, and since I abhor waste, I use their chairs. As you say,the expense is not very great, but if I do not save in small ways Icannot make ends meet and keep up appearances and that is mostimportant, until you see fit to catch a husband."
All this was in an aside to her daughter, who seemed accustomed to suchremarks and coolly helped herself to stuffed mangoes without deigningany reply. But after brooding a few seconds she spoke:
"Do you think that the chair episode on deck before dinner was 'keepingup appearances' very well?"
"And so you have your eye on young Mr. Kinsella, have you?"
"Not at all, Mamma, and you know I haven't. In the first place, PierceKinsella is years younger than I am, and while he is tremendously cleverwith his brush, he is not the intellectual man I must have or dowithout."
"Never mind your age. If you do not mind being frank on the subject, youmust have some consideration for me, who am your unwilling mother. Noone will ever believe I was a mere school girl when I married GeorgeO'Brien. If I should not keep up appearances for young Kinsella, who wasit, please? Surely not that Miss Smith!"
"Miss Brown, Mamma, Molly Brown. She is a lovely girl and a perfectlady; and what will have more weight with you, she is a friend of theStewarts. Pierce Kinsella told me it was at Mr. Stewart's request thatshe and her mother were put next to the Captain and they have the beststateroom the ship affords."
"Ah, dead-heads, I surmise."
"Not at all. They had their tickets and stateroom engaged and did notknow of the honor done them until Pierce Kinsella told them himself. Ifancy we are the only dead-heads on board."
"Elise, I will not have you be so cynical. Mr. Stewart is a connectionof mine and I am entitled to some consideration from him," snapped themother.
"Yes, I know, a very close connection: Mr. Huntington's first wife'scousin-in-law. For that reason, you must have transportation free on aline of steamers Mr. Stewart is interested in; but you had to send me toask for the favor, and I'll tell you now what I did not tell you beforefor fear of hurting your feelings, that Mr. Stewart said he was glad todo it for my sake."
The last was a poser for the angry woman, and mother and daughter ceasedtheir wrangling and devoted themselves to the very good dinner.
Poor Molly got to bed as best she could and stayed there twenty-fourhours. She was sure her seasickness was the worst that had ever beenknown, but we all feel that. On the second day she was persuaded to goon deck by her solicitous mother,--who, by the way, was notuncomfortable one minute,--and as she dropped limply into her steamerchair, carefully arranged for her by the Kinsellas, she for the firsttime had a desire to live. The ocean was a wonderful color, all pearlygray with little flecks of pink on top of every wave. The sun wassetting in a mist. The wind had died down and there was a deliciousdampness in the air that smelt of salt.
"Oh, how glad I am to get up here! All of you are so good to me. Itseems a year since I went to my stateroom and I believe it is only a dayand a night. Has anything happened since I disappeared?"
"Nothing," answered Pierce. "The sun and the ship have moved but ther
est of us have just stood still waiting for you to come back. By theway, this is your sunset, you remember. You forgot to advertise it, soyou have not a very large audience."
"Well, if Miss Brown can get up that good a show without even trying,what couldn't she accomplish if she put her mind on it? I believe I likeyours better than Pierce's," said Mr. Kinsella. "His was so flamboyant,while yours has a certain reserve and distinction."
The conversation went gayly on between uncle and nephew while Mrs. Brownhovered over her daughter, tucking in the rug and shifting the pillowsfor more perfect comfort. Molly smiled a little wanly at first but soonthe good air and gay talk got in their perfect work, and before she knewit she was laughing outright at some of Pierce's sallies. The colorbegan to come back into her cheeks. A desire for life grew stronger andstronger. Mr. Kinsella noticed the change in the girl, and while Mrs.Brown and Pierce were engaged in an animated discussion on Woman'sSuffrage, Pierce taking the Anti side "just for practice," he slippedaway and soon returned with a tray of dainty food.
"Please eat a little something now, Miss Brown. It will put new life inyou and I feel sure you are on the mend and can trust yourself to takesome nourishment. Chicken aspic and dry toast can't hurt you, and I feelsure it will do you good."
"Why, Mr. Kinsella, you are too good to me! How did you know I washungry? I was ashamed to say so, but I felt that a little food was allthat was needed to make me perfectly well." And Molly fell to with anavidity that surprised her mother, who had not been able to persuade herto take a mouthful all day.
"I have seen seasick persons before now," laughed Mr. Kinsella, "andknow by experience that there is a crucial moment when food must beadministered, and then the patient gets well immediately. I noticed youwere laughing, and no one with _mal-de-mer_ can laugh! And then yourcolor came back, and that is a signal for food, too. I am so glad youlike what I brought you."
"Mr. Kinsella, I cannot tell you how grateful I am," said Mrs. Brown. "Idon't wish you to be seasick, but I do wish Molly and I could repay yourkindness in some way."
"My dear lady, I am already in your debt for permitting my scape-gracenephew and me to know you and your daughter. I have had my nose at thegrindstone of business for so many years that I feared it had grown outof my power to make new friends; but I begin to see that I have not lostthe knack. Perhaps my somber presence is tolerated because of my gay,jolly boy," and Mr. Kinsella gazed rather wistfully after Pierce, whohad crossed the deck to meet Elise O'Brien, just emerging from thecabin.
"Oh, Mr. Kinsella, you must not think that," eagerly implored Molly. "Ialways like serious men better than boys, and besides you are not somberbut full of gaiety and jokes. You are not fair to yourself if you thinkpeople like you only on account of Pierce. He is a delightful boy,but----"
"But what?"
"Don't press her too far, Mr. Kinsella," laughed Mrs. Brown. "She hasalready confessed to a penchant to seriousness and finds 'beauty inextreme old age'," and pinching Molly's blushing cheek, she went over tojoin a group of recently made acquaintances who were looking at adistant sail through an overworked spyglass belonging to one of thetourists.
"What a tease Mother is! But she looks so like my brother Kent when sheteases me that I don't mind. Kent is always teasing and the only reasonI can stand it is that it makes him look like Mother! You see, Kent ismy special beloved brother and you know what my mother is."
"Yes, I know," answered Mr. Kinsella, who had sunk into the chairvacated by Mrs. Brown. "Your mother is a rare woman: beautiful andhonest and tolerant, charming and well-bred, broad-minded and cultured.Eternal youth is in her heart, but she has a character gracefully toaccept the years that Providence has allotted her and that only serve tomake her more lovely. I have no patience with the assumption of extremeyouth in the middle-aged, despite the limerick I have taken for mymotto."
"But, Mr. Kinsella, you are not middle-aged," protested Molly. "I nevereven think of Mother as being middle-aged. I think that is the ugliestword in our language, except, maybe, stout. I'd a great deal rather becalled fat and forty than stout and middle-aged!"
"Well, it will be many a year before you will be called either, and bythat time you may change your mind. 'A rose by any other name wouldsmell as sweet,' and, after all, it is being stout and middle-aged thatmakes the difference, not being called it."
While Molly was having the little chat with Mr. Kinsella, Mrs.Huntington had come on deck and had approached them from behind. Lookingup, Molly surprised on her face an expression of extreme bitterness, andshe wondered if she had overheard Mr. Kinsella's views on the subject ofthe assumption of youth in the middle-aged. "I do hope she didn't,"thought Molly. "She is so pretty, and it must be hard to give up youthand to feel your beauty slipping from you. Especially hard when beautyhas been your chief asset in life, as I fancy it has been with Mrs.Huntington." She gave the older woman a polite bow and smile and Mr.Kinsella formally offered her his chair but with no great cordiality.
"Oh, thank you, Tom. And how are you, Miss Brown? I do hope you arefeeling better. My daughter has taken such a fancy to you, she has beenquite _desole_ at your nonappearance all day."
"Oh, I am all well again, thanks to Mr. Kinsella's getting me some foodat the psychological moment when health was returning," answered Molly,wondering at Mrs. Huntington's change of tactics since the eveningbefore, when she had been so insolent in her bearing to her. "It iscertainly nicer to have her polite to me than rude, whether she means itor not," she said to herself. "I do wish I had not been sick all day. Idid want to see her first meeting with Mr. Kinsella. I know she hadsomething to do with his premature grayness and the disappointment thatPierce hinted at. How coldly polite he is to her now. If a man like thathad ever loved me and then could be so cold to me, I believe it wouldkill me," which shows that Molly was very sentimental and on the lookoutfor romance.
The gong rang for dinner and there was a general move toward the cabin.
"Please tell Mother I am all right and will sit here while she is atdinner, and that she must not hurry. I believe 'discretion would be thebetter part of valor' for me and I had better not try to eat anythingmore for a while."
After the deck was clear except for a few helplessly, hopelessly sickpersons who lay like mummies in their chairs, ranged along the deck,Molly decided to get up and walk around a little, feeling anxious to tryher sea legs. Then as the wind had shifted, she determined to move herchair to a sheltered nook behind one of the life-boats. She bundledherself up in her rug, pulling the corner of it over her head and layfor all the world like the rest of the mummies. "Only, thank goodness, Iam no longer sick," she thought gratefully.
Her soul was at peace, after the night and day of agony, and she droppedoff easily into a doze. She dreamed that she was at home in the oldapple tree that they had called "The Castle" and that Kent was gentlyshaking the tree, trying to make her get out so Professor Green couldbuild his bungalow there; and when she refused and declared it was herCastle and she intended to stay in it, the Professor himself had come,with his kind brown eyes looking into hers, and said: "But, Miss Molly,the bungalow is yours, too, and the Orchard is still your home." Sheawoke but lay quite still wondering at the reality of her dream.