“A ’orse.”

“What did I tell you?  You will never be a lady if you leave out your h’s.”

At this moment the mamma appeared.  “Oh,” said Mrs. Jackson, “your little girl was crying so for you, till that gentleman succeeded in amusing her.”

“I ’ope, sir, she ’asn’t been very troublesome?  The baby, ’e ’as been so fretful with ’is teeth, or I should ’ave come for H’Emma sooner.”

“The gentleman said H’Emma was vulgar.”

“Don’t you tell stories, miss.  The gentleman wouldn’t ’ave you called hout of your name.”

Bluebell laughed at Mr. Dutton’s slightly confused appearance, and asked if he thought his corrections would survive the force of example.

“I might have known whom she had learnt it from.”

Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he asked Bluebell if she could play chess; and, on her replying in the affirmative, he produced a pocket-board.

“I always take it to sea with me,” said he, “and make out problems.”

Bluebell was beaten, and he tried to teach her a more scientific game.  And the evening passed away pleasantly to those two at any rate.

On retiring to her cabin, she perceived a strong smell of brandy, and found Mrs. Oliphant ensconced in the lower berth.  Evidently the time for “cheering other people” had not arrived, for her complaints were incessant.  The ship was rolling considerable, and Bluebell found some difficulty in undressing, and more in clambering into her berth.  She had not been there many minutes when she was startled by the apparition of a man walking straight into the cabin, who explained his errand by unceremoniously putting out their lamp.

Then she fell into a dreamless slumber, but was not long allowed a refreshment denied to her companion, who, in all her wakeful moments, insisted on keeping up a querulous conversation, till Bluebell, in despair, feigned sleep, and would no longer reply.

CHAPTER XXVII.

HARRY DUTTON.

But hapless one!  I cannot ride—­there’s something in a horse
That I could always honour, but never could indorse. 
To speak still more commercially, in riding I am quite
Averse to running long, and apt to be paid off at sight. 
In legal phrase, for every class to understand me still,
I never was in stirrups yet a tenant but at will;
Or, if you please, in artist’s terms, I never went a-straddle
On any horse without “a want of keeping” in the saddle. 

          
                                                                                          —­Hood.

The next morning was rougher than ever.  The stewardess brought Mrs. Oliphant’s breakfast; but Bluebell, eager for more congenial companionship, dressed, and went down to the saloon, where she received a cheery welcome from the captain, who said he had hardly hoped to have his breakfast-table graced by the presence of any ladies on so wild a morning.