A Woman Intervenes | Page 5

surmise regarding Mr. Brown's
indifference to be perfectly well founded. That young man searched for
his card, found it, and sat down on the chair opposite the young woman,
who already occupied her chair, and was, in fact, the first one at table.
Seeing there would be no unseemly dispute about places, she began to
plan in her own mind how she would first attract the attention of Mr.

Wentworth. While thinking how best to approach her victim, Jennie
heard his voice.
'Here you are, Kenyon; here are our places.'
'Which is mine?' said the voice of Kenyon.
'It doesn't matter,' answered Wentworth, and then a thrill of fear went
through the gentle heart of Miss Jennie Brewster. She had not thought
of the young man not caring which seat he occupied, and she dreaded
the possibility of finding herself next to Kenyon rather than Wentworth.
Her first estimate of the characters of the two men seemed to be correct.
She always thought of Kenyon as Bunyan, and she felt certain that
Wentworth would be the easier man of the two to influence. The next
moment her fears were allayed, for Kenyon, giving a rapid glance at the
handsome young woman, deliberately chose the seat farthest from her,
and Wentworth, with 'I beg your pardon,' slipped in and sat down on
the chair beside her.
'Now,' thought Jennie, with a sigh of relief, 'our positions are fixed for
the meals of the voyage.' She had made her plans for beginning an
acquaintance with the young man, but they were rendered unnecessary
by the polite Mr. Wentworth handing her the bill of fare.
'Oh, thank you,' said the girl, in a low voice, which was so musical that
Wentworth glanced at her a second time and saw how sweet and pretty
and innocent she was.
'I'm in luck,' said the unfortunate young man to himself. Then he
remarked aloud: 'We have not many ladies with us this voyage.'
'No,' replied Miss Brewster; 'I suppose nobody crosses at this time of
the year unless compelled to.'
'I can answer for two passengers that such is the case.'
'Do you mean yourself as one?'

'Yes, myself and my friend.'
'How pleasant it must be,' said Miss Brewster, 'to travel with a friend!
Then one is not lonely. I, unfortunately, am travelling alone.'
'I fancy,' said the gallant Wentworth, 'that if you are lonely while on
board ship, it will be entirely your own fault.'
Miss Brewster laughed a silvery little laugh.
'I don't know about that,' she said. 'I am going to that Mecca of all
Americans--Paris. My father is to meet me there, and we are then going
on to the Riviera together.'
'Ah, that will be very pleasant,' said Wentworth. 'The Riviera at this
season is certainly a place to be desired.'
'So I have heard,' she replied.
'Have you not been across before?'
'No, this is my first trip. I suppose you have crossed many times?'
'Oh no,' answered the Englishman; 'this is only my second voyage, my
first having been the one that took me to America.'
'Ah, then you are not an American,' returned Miss Brewster, with
apparent surprise.
She, imagined that a man is generally flattered when a mistake of this
kind is made. No matter how proud he may be of his country, he is
pleased to learn that there is no provincialism about him which, as the
Americans say, 'gives him away.'
'I think,' said Wentworth, 'as a general thing, I am not taken for
anything but what I am--an Englishman.'
'I have met so few Englishmen,' said the guileless young woman, 'that
really I should not be expected to know.'

'I understand it is a common delusion among Americans that every
Englishman drops his "h's," and is to be detected in that way.'
Jennie laughed again, and George Wentworth thought it one of the
prettiest laughs he had ever heard.
Poor Kenyon was rather neglected by his friend during the dinner. He
felt a little gloomy while the courses went on, and wished he had an
evening paper. Meanwhile, Wentworth and the handsome girl beside
him got on very well together. At the end of the dinner she seemed to
have some difficulty in getting up from her chair, and Wentworth
showed her how to turn it round, leaving her free to rise. She thanked
him prettily.
'I am going on deck,' she said, turning to go; 'I am so anxious to get my
first glimpse of the ocean at night from the deck of a steamer.'
'I hope you will let me accompany you,' returned young Wentworth.
'The decks are rather slippery, and even when the boat is not rolling it
isn't quite safe for a lady unused to the motion of a ship to walk