Part 7 (1/2)

Mr. Twist listened attentively, and begged her to tell him any other little thing she might think of as useful to him in his capacity of friend and attendant,--both of which, said Mr. Twist, he intended to be till he had seen them safely landed in New York.

”I hope you don't think we _need_ anybody,” said Anna-Rose. ”We shall like being friends with you very much, but only on terms of perfect equality.”

”Sure,” said Mr. Twist, who was an American.

”I thought--”

She hesitated a moment.

”You thought?” encouraged Mr. Twist politely.

”I thought at Liverpool you looked as if you were being sorry for us.”

”Sorry?” said Mr. Twist, in the tone of one who repudiates.

”Yes. When we were waving good-bye to--to our friends.”

”Sorry?” repeated Mr. Twist.

”Which was great waste of your time.”

”I should think so,” said Mr. Twist with heartiness.

Anna-Rose, having cleared the ground of misunderstandings, an activity in which at all times she took pleasure, accepted Mr. Twist's attentions in the spirit in which they were offered, which was, as he said, one of mutual friendliness and esteem. As he was never sea-sick, he could move about and do things for them that might be difficult to do for themselves; as he knew a great deal about stewardesses, he could tell them what sort of tip theirs expected; as he was American, he could illuminate them about that country. He had been doing Red Cross work with an American ambulance in France for ten months, and was going home for a short visit to see how his mother, who, Anna-Rose gathered, was ancient and widowed, was getting on. His mother, he said, lived in seclusion in a New England village with his sister, who had not married.

”Then she's got it all before her,” said Anna-Rose.

”Like us,” said Anna-Felicitas.

”I shouldn't think she'd got as much of it before her as you,” said Mr.

Twist, ”because she's considerably more grown up--I mean,” he added hastily, as Anna-Rose's mouth opened, ”she's less--well, less completely young.”

”We're not completely young,” said Anna-Rose with dignity. ”People are completely young the day they're born, and ever after that they spend their time becoming less so.”

”Exactly. And my sister has been becoming less so longer than you have.

I a.s.sure you that's all I meant. She's less so even than I am.”

”Then,” said Anna-Rose, glancing at that part of Mr. Twist's head where it appeared to be coming through his hair, ”she must have got to the stage when one is called a maiden lady.”

”And if she were a German,” said Anna-Felicitas suddenly, who hadn't till then said anything to Mr. Twist but only smiled widely at him whenever he happened to look her way, ”she wouldn't be either a lady or a maiden, but just an It. It's very rude of Germans, I think,” went on Anna-Felicitas, abstractedly smiling at the cake Mr. Twist was offering her, ”never to let us be anything but Its till we've taken on some men.”

Mr. Twist expressed surprise at this way of describing marriage, and inquired of Anna-Felicitas what she knew about Germans.

”The moment you leave off being sea-sick, Anna-F.,” said Anna-Rose, turning to her severely, ”you start being indiscreet. Well, I suppose,”

she added with a sigh to Mr. Twist, ”you'd have had to know sooner or later. Our name is Twinkler.”

She watched him to see the effect of this, and Mr. Twist, perceiving he was expected to say something, said that he didn't mind that anyhow, and that he could bear something worse in the way of revelations.

”Does it convey nothing to you?” asked Anna-Rose, astonished, for in Germany the name of Twinkler was a mighty name, and even in England it was well known.