Mrs Falchion | Page 8

The half-fainting girl weakly replied: "I am very sorry, madame,
indeed."
To this Mrs. Falchion rejoined: "When you have been attended to, you
may go to bed, Justine. I shall not want you again to-night. But I shall
change my dress. It is so unpleasant; I hate blood. I hope you will be
well in the morning."
To this Justine replied: "Ah, madame, I am sorry. I could not help it;
but I shall be quite well in the morning, I am sure." Then she added
quietly to me: "The poor madame! She will not see suffering. She hates
pain. Sickness troubles her. Shall I be able to use my hand very soon,
monsieur?"
There was a wistful look in her eyes, and guessing why it was there, I
said: "Yes, soon, I hope--in a few days, no doubt."
Her face lighted up, and she said: "Madame likes about her people who
are happy and well." Then, as if she might have said too much, she
hurriedly added: "But she is very kind;" and, stooping down quickly,
her face whitening with the effort, she caught up the broken glass and
threw it through the port-hole into the sea.
A half-hour later I went on deck, and found Mrs. Falchion comfortably
seated in her deck-chair. I brought a stool over, and sat down beside her.

To this hour the quickness with which I got upon friendly terms with
her astonishes me.
"Justine is better?" she said, and her hand made a slight motion of
disgust.
"Yes. She was not dangerously hurt, of course."
"Let us change the subject, please. They are going to have a fancy-dress
ball on board, I believe, before we get to Aden. How tiresome! Isn't it a
little affectation on the part of the stage-struck committee? Isn't
it--inconsequent?"
"That depends," I said vaguely, inviting a question. She idled with a
book in her lap.
"On what?"
"On those who go, what costumes are worn, and how much beauty and
art appear."
"But the trouble! Does it pay? What return does one get?"
"If all admire, half are envious, some are jealous, and one is devoted--
isn't that enough?" I think I was a fool that night.
"You seem to understand women," she said, with a puzzling and not
quite satisfactory smile. "Yes, all that is something."
Though I was looking at the sea rather than at her, I saw again that
inquiring look in her eyes--such a measuring look as a recruiting
sergeant might give a victim of the Queen's shilling.
After a moment's pause she continued, I thought, abstractedly: "As
what should you go?"
I answered lightly and without premeditation, "As Caius Cassius. Why
should you not appear as Portia?"

She lifted her eyebrows at me.
"As Portia?"
"As Portia, the wife of Brutus," I blundered on, at the same time
receiving her permission, by a nod, to light my cigar.
"The pious, love-sick wife of Brutus!" This in a disdainful tone, and the
white teeth clicked softly together.
"Yes, a good disguise," I said banteringly, though I fancy somewhat
tentatively also, and certainly with a touch of rudeness. I was thinking
at that moment of the Intermediate Passenger, and I was curious.
"And you think of going in the disguise of a gentleman? Caius Cassius
was that, wasn't he?" she retorted in an ironical tone.
"I suppose he was, though he was punished once for rudeness," I
replied apologetically.
"Quite so," was the decisive reply.
I felt that she was perfectly cool, while I was a little confused, and
ashamed too, that I had attempted to be playfully satirical. And so,
wondering what I should say next, I remarked in desperation: "Do you
like the sea?"
"I am never ill at sea," was her reply. "But I do not really like it; it is
treacherous. The land would satisfy me if--" She paused.
"Yes, Mrs. Falchion--'if'?"
"If I did not wish to travel," she vaguely added, looking blandly at me.
"You have travelled much?" I ventured.
"A great deal;" and again I saw that scrutiny in her eyes. It occurred to
me at the moment that she might think I possessed some previous
knowledge of her.

My mind became occupied again with the Intermediate Passenger and
the portrait that he wore at his neck. I almost laughed to think of the
melodramatic turn which my first conversation with this woman might
chance to take. I felt that I was dealing with one who was able to meet
cleverly any advance of mine, but I determined to lead the talk into as
deep waters as possible.
"I suppose, too, you are a good practical sailor--that is, you understand
seamanship, if you have travelled much?" I do not know why I said that,
for it sounded foolish to me afterwards.