“Miss Child, I’m very pleased to meet you,” said the handsome girl warmly, just as her brother had hopefully prophesied.  “Peter’s told me quite a lot about you.  I think you’re awfully brave.”

“Perhaps one doesn’t deserve much credit for courage in doing a thing one wants to do,” answered Winifred, her slim, ringless hand responding to the kind pressure of the plump one wearing too many rings. (They were all rubies to-night.  Miss Rolls had read about a wonderful Russian woman before whom men went down like ninepins and who always matched her dresses with her jewels.)

Yes, Ena thought, Peter was right; the creature was a lady.  She had a soft, throaty voice, like a blackbird when it talks to itself, and oh, a creamy accent!  Miss Rolls would have given anything to extract it, like pith, from the long white stem in which it seemed to live.  She would have been willing to pay well for it, and for Miss Child’s length of limb, so necessary to show off the latest fashions.  She saw and appreciated the odd, golliwog charm of wide-apart eyes under high arch of brow.  And the full, laughing mouth, with the short upper lip, was beautiful, like the mouths of marvellous girls on magazine covers.  The creature looked brave and rather sweet, and Miss Rolls was quite sorry for her; but the thing had to be done.

“Petro, you go away and let us have a talk,” said Petro’s kind sister gayly.  “Two is company; three’s none.”

And Petro went, thinking Ena the grandest sort of a pal.  He had done his best for her already.  Raygan and the two ladies had graciously agreed to stay for a fortnight at least in the country upon which Providence had thrust them.  Peter had Marconied home, and home would certainly Marconi back an invitation to Sea Gull Manor.  As he had said to Ena, he had pressed the button; she must do the rest.  But he felt now as if he would enjoy doing a great deal more for her than he had yet done.

“And just what do you want to do in New York, Miss Child?” inquired Miss Rolls, as they began slowly to pace the otherwise deserted deck.

“I have wild hopes of getting newspaper work of some sort through one letter of introduction I have,” answered Win, “or into a choir as contralto from the other.  If not—­oh, well, every one says America’s the country for women.”

“Yes, it is.  We have splendid fun,” Ena assured her.  “The men are so kind to us.”

“I think they must be,” Win agreed.  “Mr. Rolls has been very kind.  Are all the rest like him?”

“I—­suppose they have different ways of being kind—­some of them.  Some may be safer than others.  I hardly know how to put it!”

“I think I understand.”

“I—­wonder if you do.  Oh, Miss Child, I wish I dared speak to you frankly!”

When people begin thus there is invariably something disagreeable to follow; but Winifred Child braced herself and said calmly:  “Please do.”