Nina’s conversations with the beauty tired her greatly: and yet she kept them up, for she had shrewdness enough to perceive that Adonis really admired her; that he made an effort to please her by keeping above flattering, semi-flirting commonplaces; and also, most potent of all, that he had some mysterious interest in her, connected with the subject of her parentage.
True to her resolve, she would not ask him questions with regard to this interest; and he did not volunteer information except occasionally, and in the most delicate and blameless way. If by chance she left the region of the ship and referred to some occurrence in her former life, there would be in his manner a slight infusion of animation, and he would drop some item of slight information. Then she would hastily leave the subject, until her next lapse into forgetfulness.
When Mrs. Grayley chose to leave the seclusion of her own room during the two days of imprisonment below, Nina was faintly amused, for the lady of middle age was consumed with admiration for Mr. Delessert. Upon her appearance he was obliged to put all his small graces and accomplishments on exhibition, and she fairly worried him to invent devices for whiling away the tedium of the long hours.
When the weather permitted, and often when it did not, the piano was resorted to; and Mr. Delessert was obliged to sing and play even at the risk of rolling off the stool several times during the performance of one piece. Upon these latter occasions, Mrs. Grayley always clapped her lily-like hands and gaily assured him that never before, off the stage, had she seen a man fall so gracefully.
He took her merriment not at all in good part, and usually wandered away. But always to come back; for the other people on board, the men especially, for some reason or other kept themselves severely away from him. Captain Eversleigh, who at first had shown a slight preference for his society, now, Nina noticed, never addressed him, but was constantly with the tall youth Maybury.
On the evening of the last day of bad weather Nina was in Miss Marsden’s room.
“It is eleven o’clock,” that young lady at last observed, “don’t you think you would better go to bed?”
“Don’t send me away yet,” pleaded Nina; “tell me some more things about yourself.”