Part 2 (2/2)
”But tell me more about the little girl,” Blythe entreated, wis.h.i.+ng the wind wouldn't blow her words out of her mouth so rudely. ”Her name is Cecilia, you say?”
”Yes; Cecilia. Dopo is the name they went by, but the nurse doesn't think it genuine. Her idea is that her Signora was the daughter of some great family, and got herself disowned by marrying an opera singer who subsequently made a fiasco and dropped his name with his fame. She doesn't think Dopo ever was a family name. It means 'after,'
you know, and they may have adopted it for its ironical significance.”
”And the poor lady died and never told!” Blythe panted, as they toiled painfully up-hill with the rain beating in their faces.
”Yes, and--look out! hold tight!” for suddenly the slant of the deck was reversed, and they came coasting down to an impromptu seat on a bench.
”It seems,” Mr. Grey went on, when they had resumed their somewhat arduous promenade,--”it seems the woman, Giuditta, is quite alone in the world and has been longing to get back to Italy. So she easily persuaded herself that she could find the child's family and establish her in high life. Giuditta has an uncommonly high idea of high life,”
he added. ”I think she imagines that somebody in a court train and a coronet will come to meet her Signorina at the pier in Genoa. Poor things! There'll be a rude awakening!”
”But we won't let it be rude!” Blythe protested. ”We must do something about it. Can't you think of anything to do?”
They were standing now, clinging to the friendly rope stretched across the deck, shoulder high.
”Giuditta's plan,” Mr. Grey replied, ”is the nave one of appealing to the Queen about it. And, seriously, I think it may be worth while to ask the American Minister to make inquiries. For there is, of course, a bare chance that the family may be known at Court. In the meantime----”
”In the meantime,” Blythe interposed, ”we've got to get her out of the steerage!”
”But how?”
”Oh, Mamma will arrange that. We'll just make a cabin pa.s.senger of her, and I can take her in with me in my stateroom. Oh! how happy she will be, lying in my steamer chair, with that dear Gustav to wait on her! I must go down at once and get Mamma to say yes!”
”And you think she will?”
”I know she will! She is always doing nice things. If you really knew her you wouldn't doubt it!” And with that the young optimist vanished in her accustomed whirl of golf-cape.
If faith can move mountains, it is perhaps no wonder that the implicit and energetic faith of which Blythe Halliday was possessed proved equal to the removal of a small child from one quarter to another of the big s.h.i.+p. The three persons concerned in bringing about the change were easily won over; for Mrs. Halliday was quite of Blythe's mind in the matter, Mr. Grey had little difficulty in bringing the Captain to their point of view, while, as for Giuditta, she hailed the event as the first step in the transformation of her small Signorina into the little ”great lady” she was born to be.
Accordingly, close upon luncheon time, when the sun was just breaking through the clouds, and the sea, true to the Captain's prediction, was already beginning to subside, the tiny Signorina was carried, in the strong arms of Gustav, up the steep gangway by the wheel-house, where Blythe and her mother, Mr. DeWitt and the poet, to say nothing of Captain Seemann himself, formed an impromptu reception committee for her little ladys.h.i.+p.
As the child was set on her feet at the head of the gangway, she turned to throw a kiss down upon her faithful Giuditta, and then, without the slightest hesitation, she placed her hand in Blythe's, and walked away with her.
That evening there was a dance on board the _Lorelei_; for it had been but the fringe of a storm which they had crossed, and the sea was again taking on its long, easy swell.
The deck presented a festal appearance for the occasion. Rows of j.a.panese lanterns were strung from side to side against the white background of awning and deckhouse, and the flags of many nations lent their gay colours to the pretty scene. The s.h.i.+p's orchestra was in its element, playing with a ”go” and rhythm which seemed caught from the pulsing movement of the s.h.i.+p itself.
As Blythe, with Mr. DeWitt, who had been a famous dancer in his day, led off the Virginia Reel, she wondered how it would strike the sailors of a pa.s.sing brig,--this gay apparition of light and music, riding the great, dark, solemn sea.
The dance itself was rather a staid, middle-aged affair, for Blythe was the only young girl on board, and none but the youngest or the surest-footed could put much spirit into a dance where the law of gravitation was apparently changing base from moment to moment. Blythe and her partner, however, took little account of the moving floor beneath their feet, or the hesitating demeanour of their companions.
One after another, even the most reluctant and self-distrustful of the revellers found themselves caught up into active partic.i.p.ation in the figure.
In a quiet corner of the deck sat Mrs. Halliday, with little Cecilia beside her, snugly stowed away in a nest of steamer-rugs; for they could not bear to take her below, out of the fresh, invigorating air.
Their little guest spoke hardly any English, but, although Mrs.
Halliday was under the impression that she herself spoke Italian, the child seemed more conversable in Blythe's company than in that of any one else, not excepting Mr. Grey, about whose linguistic accomplishments there could be no question.
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