them—and returning to Mrs. Nettlepoint's room found (her door was open into the little passage) that she was still sitting up.
'She's all right!' I said. 'She's on the deck with Jasper.'
The old lady looked up at me from her book. 'I didn't know you called that all right.'
'Well, it's better than something else.'
'Something else?'
'Something I was a little afraid of.' Mrs. Nettlepoint continued to look at me; she asked me what that was. 'I'll tell you when we are ashore,' I said.
The next day I went to see her, at the usual hour of my morning visit, and found her in considerable agitation. 'The scenes have begun,' she said; 'you know I told you I shouldn't get through without them! You made me nervous last night—I haven't the least idea what you meant; but you made me nervous. She came in to see me an hour ago, and I had the courage to say to her, "I don't know why I shouldn't tell you frankly that I have been scolding my son about you." Of course she asked me what I meant by that, and I said—"It seems to me he drags you about the ship too much, for a girl in your position. He has the air of not remembering that you belong to some one else. There is a kind of want of taste and even of want of respect in it." That produced an explosion; she became very violent.'
'Do you mean angry?'
'Not exactly angry, but very hot and excited—at my presuming to think her relations with my son were not the simplest in the world. I might
