"Your politeness will at least teach them a lesson," she said. "I am used
to travel by the P. & O. and from what I have seen of this steamer--"

The spoon suddenly went clattering from her fingers. She caught at the
sides of the table, there was a strange look in her face. With scarcely a
murmur she fell back in her seat. Quest leaned hurriedly forward.

"Captain!" he exclaimed. "Steward! Mrs. Foston Rowe is ill."

There was a slight commotion. The Doctor came hurrying up from the other
side of the salon. He bent over her and his face grew grave.

"What is it?" the Captain demanded.

The Doctor glanced at him meaningly.

"She had better be carried out," he whispered.

It was all done in a moment. There was nothing but Mrs. Foston Rowe's
empty place at the table and the cup of bouillon, to remind them of what
had happened.

"Was it a faint?" Lenora asked.

"We shall know directly," the Captain replied. "Better keep our places, I
think. Steward, serve the dinner as usual."

The man held out his hand to withdraw the cup of bouillon, but Quest drew
it towards him.