"Oh, yes, I see," Bessie rejoined. "It was the American girl on the
same floor with me. Flossie told me of her, and I heard them taking her
away that night. Oh, it was so sad; and Mr. Jerrold thought it was I!
Was he sorry, Miss Grey?"
She asked the question timidly, and into her eyes there came a look of
great gladness when her friend replied:
"Yes, very, very sorry."
"Will you tell him I am not dead? It was poor mamma who died. Tell him I
am here," Bessie continued; and Miss Grey looked curiously at the girl,
who, being, as she supposed, engaged to Neil, could be so glad that Grey
was sorry, and so eager to see him.
"Yes, I will tell him and bring him to you after a little; but you must
be quiet, and not excite yourself too much. I must have you well when we
reach New York, and we have only three days more," Miss Grey replied,
and then, with a kiss, she went away to Grey's state-room at the other
end of the ship.
But he was not there, and upon inquiry she learned that he had gone up
on deck, where she found him in his chair, sitting by himself, and
gazing out upon the sea, with that sad, troubled look on his face, which
had of late become habitual, and of which she now knew the reason.
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