"Now, as part owner in the flowers up to date, I protest against that. I insist that Miss McMillan be brought to this table, and that we all hear exactly what is said to her," put in Mr. Waters.
Nevertheless we agreed that Mr. Blair's proposal was a good one and the majority sanctioned it.
Meanwhile our sentimental lady had been looking among the crowd for the unconscious Miss McMillan.
"I think I have found her," she whispered to me. "Do you see that handsome girl at the captain's table? Really the handsomest girl on board."
"I thought that distinction rested with our own table."
"Now, please pay attention. Do you see how pensive she is, with her cheek resting on her hand? I am sure she is thinking of Edwin."
"I wouldn't bet on that," I replied. "There is considerable motion just now, and indications of a storm. The pensiveness may have other causes."
Here the steward returned and reported that Miss McMillan had not yet appeared at table, but had her meals taken to her room by the stewardess.
Blair called to the good-natured, portly stewardess of the Climatus, who at that moment was passing through the saloon.
"Is Miss McMillan ill?" he asked.
