We were now in warm waters, along the west coast of Africa and it was very pleasant to sit on deck. Miss Cartwright came up and sat in a deck chair, but she looked very wan and Felicity confided in me that she was very worried about her.
"I am sure nothing would have induced her to come—not even her duty towards me—if she had known how rough seas would affect her," she said. "If we have another bout of bad weather I shall really fear for her."
She did not stay long on deck and wished to retire to her cabin. Felicity and I took her down and would have stayed with her, but she wanted to sleep if possible.
When we went back on deck Milton Harrington came and sat down beside us.
"Miss Cartwright looks very poorly," he said, and Felicity admitted that she was anxious about her. She thought she might be really ill, she said.
"We could run into bad weather round the Cape," he said. "It's called the Cape of Storms, you know."
"Oh dear," said Felicity.
"There are some who can't take the sea and Miss Cartwright is, I am afraid, one of them. And when she gets to Australia... she will have the prospect of the journey back."
"I wish she could go home," said Felicity.
"That would be easy enough."
"How?"
"She could go back from Cape Town."
"Alone!" said Felicity.
"Unless we went back with her," I added. I looked at Felicity. "We could hardly do that."
"Seeing how ill she was, made me think," said Milton Harrington. "I know Cape Town well. I have friends there."
"You seem to have friends everywhere," I commented.
"I travel a great deal. I call in at these places. One collects people."
"Like souvenirs?" I suggested.
"Well, you could call it like that. I could arrange something ..."
Felicity was staring out to sea. Was she wishing that she could go back from Cape Town?
"I'll talk to Miss Cartwright," said Milton Harrington.
"You?" I cried.
"Yes, why not? I am sure she would listen to me."
"I am sure she would think a man's opinion so much more valuable than that of someone of her own sex."
"Yes. I always thought she was a wise woman." He was looking at me and laughing. "I wish, Miss Annalice, that you shared her opinion."
"Could we be serious?"
"Indeed we can. She should go back. I have no doubt of that. I could arrange it quite easily. I could get her a passage on another ship. I might even know someone who is going back who could keep an eye on her. It is better for people in her state of health to be in their own homes."
I looked at Felicity. She nodded.
She said: "She would never agree to leave us to travel alone."
"I will tell her that I will keep an eye on you."
"You!" I cried. "She would think that most unconventional. Why we didn't even know you until we came on board."
"Friendship matures quickly when people live in close proximity. She would have to face the passage back, of course; but all the time she would be getting nearer home. You have no idea how helpful that can be."
"At home," I told him, "they only agreed that we could come because Miss Cartwright was with us. They would have thought it most improper to allow young women to go to the other side of the world alone."
"It only shows how mistaken people can be. Here are you two, taking care of Miss Cartwright. Leave it to me. The next time I see her I will gently hint at the suggestion."
He did.
The next day the weather was fine and Miss Cartwright came on deck again. Felicity sat on one side of her, I on the other. She certainly looked ill and the bright sunlight made her skin look yellow.
It was not long before Milton Harrington strolled past and came to speak to us.
"Miss Cartwright, what a pleasure to see you!" He drew up a chair. "May I join you?"
"If you wish," said Miss Cartwright well pleased.
"I was so sorry to hear that you were ill," he said. "The sea can do that to people. There are some who should never go to sea."
"And I am one of them," said Miss Cartwright. "I can tell you, Mr. Harrington, that when I have finished with this I shall never never make a sea voyage again."
"Nor should you. What a pity there is more to come, and then you will have the long journey home."
"Don't speak of it, I beg you. I dread it."
"You could, of course, cut the journey short."
"Cut it short? How?"
"By returning home from Cape Town."
I saw the gleam in her eyes; then it faded. "But, Mr. Harrington, I have to deliver my niece to her future husband. I am in charge of her and Miss Mallory."
"And you have carried out those duties with excellence. But, Miss Cartwright, if you become ill, how can you continue to do so?"
"I must overcome this weakness."
"Even a lady as dedicated and determined as yourself cannot overcome the sea."
"Well, I have to do my best."
"If you decide to return home from Cape Town, I can arrange it easily."
"What? Do you mean that?"
"I could fix a passage on a ship going home. I have friends who constantly make these trips. I could give you an introduction to one of them so that you did not make the journey alone."
"Mr. Harrington, you are so kind, but I have come out here to look after my niece."
"Her future husband will be waiting for her at Sydney. He will look after her from then on."
She was silent. She looked a little better already. There was a touch of colour in her cheeks. It was the pleasure of the prospect of soon being on English soil.
She gave a little laugh. "So good of you... but, of course, impossible."
"It would need a little arranging, certainly. But impossible, no. It could be done and without a great deal of trouble. Quite easily in fact."
"But these two..."
"They are both very capable young ladies. I would be there to make sure no harm could come to them. You could safely leave them in my hands."
I was amazed at the man's audacity. He was really urging her to go. Why? I wondered a great deal about him. His pursuit of me for one thing was intriguing. There was a certain intensity about him. He was very different from Raymond. He was the sort of man who would be capable of everything. I was realizing more and more how predictable, how reliable Raymond was.
"Oh, but Mr. Harrington ..." murmured Miss Cartwright.
"I know you are thinking of our brief friendship. But we have seen each other daily in this short time as often as one sees friends of years' standing. The span is unimportant. It is the time we have spent together. Just think about it, Miss Cartwright. The long expanse of ocean has to be traversed. True, you have to make the journey back from Cape Town, but you would be home by the time we reach Australia. And then your health would recover rapidly."
"You make it all sound so simple, Mr. Harrington."
"Well, remember that it is not impossible."
He then began to talk of other matters such as the places he had visited on his journeys. Always, he said, he wanted to return to England. One day he would settle there.
He said no more about Cape Town; but he had sown the seed.
I could see that Miss Cartwright thought of his suggestion con-
tinually, wrestling with herself. Could she come to terms with her conscience if she left us to make the journey alone? I imagined conscience had played a big part in Miss Cartwright's life. The prospect was so inviting. I knew from what she said that she sadly missed her home and garden. She found the heat almost as trying as the buffeting winds. She was not intended to travel the world.
A few days passed. Every now and then Milton Harrington—our constant companion now—would drop a little more of his honied suggestions into her ears. I was amazed at the skill he used. He never persuaded; but almost everything he said pointed to the advisability of her returning. Nothing could be done u
ntil we reached Cape Town, but he would have to know her decision by then. We were staying there for three days and we would need all of that time to make the arrangements.
I was thinking a great deal about him. He was a man who would have a motive for what he did and his pursuit of me could mean only one thing. I was not so simple as not to understand that. He had not mentioned a wife, and I did not know whether he was married. He gave an impression of virility and I gathered he was a man who would not consider it necessary to deny himself anything he desired; I was sure he must have known many women. There was an air of worldli-ness about him. I was very intrigued by him and wondered how far our friendship would have gone if I had responded to his advances.
He was returning to his plantation from England and he had mentioned that people went home to look for wives. Did he mean that that was what he had done? And if he had. he appeared to have failed to find one; and I could not imagine his failing in anything— least of all in the pursuit of a wife.
There was a great deal I had to learn about him.
At the moment I believed I should keep him at arm's length, which was not easy for he was constantly there. I knew that the passengers were beginning to speculate about us, and as it was known that Felicity was going out to be married, they would assume that I was the target for Milton Harringtons attentions.
I have to admit that I was rather pleased to be at the centre of such a romantic intrigue. It certainly gave a spice to the day.
As he had predicted we were in rough seas again approaching the Cape and this time Miss Cartwright made her decision. She was, she confessed, a little anxious about me. for while Felicity would be in her husband's care. I should have to make the journey back to England alone.
Milton Harrington assured her that he would arrange for my passage home when the time came and would make sure that I should
travel in the company of friends of his, who would surely be returning to England. Indeed she had nothing to fear; and his assurances, combined with the weather, helped her to make up her mind.
If it could be arranged, she would go home for in her present state she could be no guardian at all—only an encumbrance.
Milton Harrington said that as soon as we docked he would set about making the arrangements.
Our stay in Cape Town was given over to the departure of Miss Cartwright. Constantly we had to reassure her that we should be perfectly safe without her.
We should be met in Sydney by William Granville. I should stay with Felicity until after the marriage; and then Mr. Harrington would help me to arrange a passage home, introduce me to the Captain of the vessel and some of his numerous friends who would surely be sailing because he knew so many people who made the journey often.
It would all work out satisfactorily in his capable hands.
And they were indeed capable. He took charge of everything. Miss Cartwright was to stay for a week in one of the best hotels. He introduced her to some of his friends who would be sailing to England. They would all be together and there was nothing to fear.
As for her charges, she could trust Mr. Harrington to do the same for them as he had done for her.
I was amazed that she was prepared to put so much trust in a man she had not known a few weeks before. I put it down to the power of his personality. Power was the word. He exuded power, and while that power was benevolent, that was very comforting. But I was wondering how one would feel if one were in conflict with it.
I felt there was so much I had to learn about this man.
Those days in Cape Town passed quickly. We had only a short time for sightseeing of perhaps the most beautiful of all the places we should visit. I shall never forget the sight of Table Mountain with what they call the tablecloth over it. There it was reaching to the sky and over the plateau frothy white clouds looking very like a tablecloth. The weather was warm, but not too hot; the flowers were colourful and the scenery majestic.
Miss Cartwright was in a state of nerves at the parting. I thought at the last minute she was going to change her mind and return to the ship. She kept talking about abandoning her duty and I knew her conscience was having a fearful battle with her dread of the sea. Conscience was defeated; and when we sailed out of Cape Town we left Miss Cartwright behind.
I had the impression that Milton Harrington was pleased that she had gone. Indeed, sometimes I thought he had skilfully manoeuvred her departure. Why?
He would have his motives. He was a man of motives. He was also occupying my thoughts far too much. I thought, He is a little brash; he is rather arrogant; he is certainly bold.
Felicity was impressed by him. I noticed that she was a little nervous in his presence. He had an effect on her too.
Now that Miss Cartwright had left, it seemed reasonable that I should move in with Felicity and leave my Australian companion with the cabin to herself.
This I did, and sharing a cabin brought us into closer contact. Consequently, our relationship changed a little.
We used to lie in our bunks, she above, me below, and talk until we fell asleep. I found that a certain drowsiness and the gentle rocking of the ship was more prone to bring out confidences than sitting on deck in the sunlight.
At length Felicity spoke of her fears.
"I wish this voyage would go on and on," she said.
"Oh, you are enjoying it then?"
"Yes... once I got used to the sea. The first part was dreadful. I just wanted to die."
"Like poor Miss Cartwright."
"I was so amazed that she went. I never thought she would. She's always been so strict about watching over me."
"I think Milton Harrington persuaded her."
"She was very taken with him. Annalice, what do you think of him?"
"Oh, I don't make hasty judgements."
"But you must have some idea."
"Well, I find him interesting... stimulating in a way. The sort of person it is quite amusing to meet... briefly ... on a ship. We reach Sydney ... we say goodbye to him ... and in a few months' time we shall be saying, 'What was the name of that man we met on the ship ...?'"
"You can't really believe that. Why, he has promised my aunt that he will make sure you have a safe passage home."
"Well, perhaps not a few months ... a few years, say."
"I don't think I shall ever forget him. It was the way he got rid of my aunt."
"Got rid of her?"
"Oh yes... He wanted her to go, didn't he?"
"Why should he?"
"Chaperones can be rather restricting."
I laughed. "Since she spent most of her time prone in her cabin she could hardly have been restricting."
"Her very presence was restricting. Now we are two young females all alone."
"Felicity, you're not scared?"
She was silent for a moment, and I went on: "You are, aren't you? Why don't you tell me?"
"I should have liked to go back with my aunt."
"Felicity! But you are going to the man you love." She was silent again and I went on: "I guessed you were worried. Wouldn't you like to talk about it?"
"It all happened so quickly."
"You were, as they say, swept off your feet."
"Well, I think I wanted something to happen ... because ..."
"Because what?"
"Oh nothing... William was there. I met him when we went to tea at a neighbour's. He talked to me and was clearly interested. Then I saw him quite a lot after that and he asked me to marry him. It seemed the best thing..."
"And now you are wondering."
"I'm thinking that I don't know him very well. And I'm all those miles from home. It's like going to strangers."
I was silent, trying to find the right words to comfort her. I was thinking of what Milton Harrington had said about his drinking habits. Poor Felicity! She was too weak, too helpless to cope with this situation into which she had thrust herself.
"It's my own fault," she said. "That doesn't help. It makes it worse re
ally if it is something that you could have avoided. It serves you right..."
"No," I agreed, "it doesn't help. But you are imagining the worst. You'll probably find when you get there that you will like it very much. He must have fallen in love with you, otherwise he wouldn't have asked you to marry him ... and you must have liked him.''
"I don't think it was quite like that. He came to look for a wife. Quite a lot of people would have been suitable. He just happened to meet me."
"That's life. It is a matter of being in a certain place at a certain time. That is how we meet our fate."
"You don't understand. I was flattered to be taken notice of. I was pleased because someone wanted to marry me. I see now how stupid I was. You see, there was someone else. I love him, you see. I always have."
"And he?"
"He's in love with someone ... not me."
"Oh, Felicity, I'm so sorry."
"My aunt thought I should marry him. They all thought I should, but when he fell in love with this other one, that was the end. Ever since I was fourteen I thought... Well, we were friends, our families I mean, great friends. We saw each other often ... and when he was in love with someone else ... and it was so obvious ... I just felt lost and lonely and terribly hurt and when William said, 'Will you marry me and come back to Australia with me,' I thought it was a good way out ... till I realized what it meant."
"I understand so much now, Felicity," I said. "I knew something was troubling you."
"And soon I shall be there ... all alone."
"You'll have your husband."
"That ... is what I am afraid of."
I tried to comfort her. "I think a lot of brides feel like this on the eve of their weddings."
"Do you?"
"I'm sure of it."
"I'm glad you came with me, Annalice."
"You know why I wanted to come."
"Yes, because of your brother."
We were silent for a while.
Then I said: "Felicity, are you asleep?"