A Woman Intervenes | Page 9

admired Miss Brewster, but he had said as
much as he could to put Wentworth on his guard.
'Now,' said Kenyon to himself, 'if she had been a girl like that, I
wouldn't have minded.' The girl 'like _that_' was a young woman who
for half an hour had been walking the deck alone with marvellous skill.
She was not so handsome as the American girl, but she had a better
complexion, and there was a colour in her cheek which seemed to
suggest England. Her dress was not quite so smart nor so well-fitting as
that of the American girl; but, nevertheless, she was warmly and
sensibly clad, and a brown Tam o' Shanter covered her fair head. The
tips of her hands were in the pockets of her short blue-cloth jacket; and

she walked the deck with a firm, reliant tread that aroused the
admiration of John Kenyon. 'If she were only a girl like that,' he
repeated to himself, 'I wouldn't mind. There's something fresh and
genuine about her. She makes me think of the breezy English downs.'
As she walked back and forward, one or two young men seemingly
made an attempt to become acquainted with her, but it was evident to
Kenyon that the young woman had made it plain to them, politely
enough, that she preferred walking alone, and they raised their sea-caps
and left her.
'She doesn't pick up the first man who comes,' he mused.
The ship was beginning to roll more and more, and yet the day was
beautiful and the sea seemingly calm. Most of the promenaders had left
the deck. Two or three of them had maintained their equilibrium with a
gratifying success which engendered the pride that goeth before a fall,
but the moment came at last when their feet slipped and they had found
themselves thrown against the bulwark of the steamer. Then they had
laughed a little in a crestfallen manner, picked themselves up, and
promenaded the deck no more. Many of those who were lying in the
steamer-chairs gave up the struggle and went down to their cabins.
There was a momentary excitement as one chair broke from its
fastenings and slid down with a crash against the bulwarks. The
occupant was picked up in a hysterical condition and taken below. The
deck steward tied the chair more firmly, so that the accident would not
happen again. The young English girl was opposite John Kenyon when
this disaster took place, and her attention being diverted by fear for the
safety of the occupant of the sliding chair, her care for herself was
withdrawn at the very moment when it was most needed. The
succeeding lurch which the ship gave to the other side was the most
tremendous of the day. The deck rose until the girl leaning outward
could almost touch it with her hand, then, in spite of herself, she
slipped with the rapidity of lightning against the chair John Kenyon
occupied, and that tripping her up, flung her upon him with an
unexpectedness that would have taken his breath away if the sudden
landing of a plump young woman upon him had not accomplished the

same thing. The fragile deck-chair gave way with a crash, and it would
be hard to say which was the more discomfited by the sudden
catastrophe, John Kenyon or the girl.
'I hope you are not hurt,' he managed to stammer.
'Don't think about me!' she cried. 'I have broken your chair, and--and--'
'The chair doesn't matter,' cried Kenyon. 'It was a flimsy structure at
best. I am not hurt, if that is what you mean--and you mustn't mind it.'
Then there came to his recollection the sentence of George Wentworth:
'A girl will have to be thrown into your arms before you will admit that
such a thing as a charming young woman exists.'

CHAPTER IV.
Edith Longworth could hardly be said to be a typical representative of
the English girl. She had the English girl's education, but not her
training. She had lost her mother in early life, which makes a great
difference in a girl's bringing up, however wealthy her father may be;
and Edith's father was wealthy, there was no doubt of that. If you asked
any City man about the standing of John Longworth, you would learn
that the 'house' was well thought of. People said he was lucky, but old
John Longworth asserted that there was no such thing as luck in
business--in which statement he was very likely incorrect. He had large
investments in almost every quarter of the globe. When he went into
any enterprise, he went into it thoroughly. Men talk about the
inadvisability of putting all one's eggs into one basket, but John
Longworth was a believer in doing