With a faint voice, Justine here said: "Travelling--with my mistress."

"As companion to a lady," I preferred to add in explanation, for I wished
not to see her humble herself so. A look of understanding came into
Roscoe's face. Then he said: "I am glad that I shall see more of you; I
am to travel by the 'Fulvia' also to London."

"Yet I am afraid I shall see very little of you," she quietly replied.

He was about to say something to her, but she suddenly swayed and would
have fallen, but that he caught her and supported her. The weakness
lasted only for a moment, and then, steadying herself, she said to both
of us: "I hope you will say nothing of this to madame? She is kind, most
kind, but she hates illness--and such things."

Galt Roscoe looked at me to reply, his face showing clearly that he
thought "madame" an extraordinary woman. I assured Justine that we would
say nothing. Then Roscoe cordially parted from us, saying that he would
look forward to seeing us both on the ship; but before he finally went,
he put on the grave a small bouquet from his buttonhole. Then I excused
myself from Justine, and, going over to Miss Treherne, explained to her
the circumstances, and asked her if she would go and speak to the
afflicted girl. She and Mrs. Callendar had been watching the incident,
and they eagerly listened to me. I think this was the moment that I
first stood really well with Belle Treherne. Her sympathy for the
bereaved girl flooded many barriers between herself and me.

"Oh," she said quickly, "indeed I will go to her, poor girl! Will you
come also, Mrs. Callendar?"