Only, the galley, or, rather,
the mess room, is rather a stuffy place. I--"

"Oh, I should n't mind that in the least. I am not unused to roughing
it." She turned to her maid. "Emilia, go and tell Morgan to say to
mother, if she wakes, that we are in the galley, breakfasting on plum
duff."

Armitage said nothing while they waited for her return. Anne
Wellington was silent, too. She simply stood waiting, tapping the toe
of one of her small russet pumps on the deck and gazing out over the
bay with a curious little smile rippling up from the corner of her
mouth.

Armitage did not quite understand her. While she had been cordial
enough, yet there was an underlying suggestion of reserve, not at all
apparent and yet unmistakably felt. It was, he felt, as though in her
life and training and experience, she had acquired a poise, a knowledge
of at least certain parts of the world and its affairs, which gave her
confidence, made her at home, and taught her how to deal with
situations which other girls less broadly endowed would have found
over-powering, or, at best, distinctly embarrassing.

Not that Armitage had in any way sought to embarrass Miss Wellington.
He had spoken simply upon impulse, being of that nature, and he could
not but admire the way in which she had diagnosed his motive, or rather
lack of motive save a chivalrous desire to serve. Evidently she had
long been accustomed to the homage of men, and more, she was apparently
a girl who knew how to appraise it at its true value in any given case.
If Armitage had but known it, this was a qualification, not without its
value to the girls and elder women who occupied Anne Wellington's plane
of social existence. The society calendar of scandal is mainly a list
of those who have not possessed this essential.

When the maid returned, Miss Wellington smiled and nodded to Armitage,
who led the way into the cabin and to the main stairway and thence down
into the hold.

The steward was a bustling, voluble little man with well-rounded
proportions and a walrus-like mustache. As Armitage and his two
companions entered, he was engaged in removing a coffee-stained table
cover--the crew had finished breakfasting--which he replaced with a
spotless red-and-white checkered cloth.

"Steward," said Armitage, falling unconsciously into the crisp voice of
command, "get some coffee and biscuits for this lady and her maid,
please."

"Yes, sir," the steward smiled affabl