make room for her, difficult as it may appear; she held for them an
indefinite store of fascination. Laura would extend herself on a top
berth beside the round-eyed Norwegian to whom it belonged, with the
cropped head of the owner pillowed on her sisterly arm, and thus they
passed hours, discussing conversions as medical students might discuss
cases, relating, comparing. They talked a great deal about Colonel
Markin. They said it was a beautiful life. More beautiful, if possible,
had been the life of Mrs. Markin, who was his second wife, and who had
been "promoted to glory" six months before. She had gained promotion
through jungle fever, which had carried her off in three days. The first
Mrs. Markin had died of drink--that was what had sent the Colonel into
the Army, she, the first Mrs. Markin, having willed her property away
from him. Colonel Markin had often rejoiced publicly that the lady had
been of this disposition, the results to him had been so blessed.
Apparently he spoke without reserve of his domestic affairs in
connection with his spiritual experiences, using both the Mrs. Markins
when it was desirable as "illustrations." The five had reached this
degree of intimacy by the time the _Coromandel_ was nearing Port Said,
and every day the hemispheres of sea and sky they watched through the
port-hole above the Norwegian girl's berth grew bluer.
From the first Colonel Markin had urged Miss Filbert's immediate return
to the Army. He found her sympathetic to the idea, willing, indeed, to
embrace it with open arms, but there were difficulties. Mr. Lindsay, as
a difficulty, was almost inseparable to anything like a prompt step in
that direction. Colonel Markin admitted it himself. He was bound to
admit it, he said, but nothing, since he joined the Army, had ever been
so painful to him. "I wish I could deny it," he said with frankness,
"but there is no doubt that for the present your first duty is toward
your gentleman, toward him who placed that ring upon your finger." There
was no sarcasm in his describing Lindsay as a gentleman; he used the
term in a kind of extra special sense, where a person less accustomed to
polite usages might have spoken of Laura's young man. "But remember, my
child," he continued, "it is only your poor vile body that is yours to
dispose of. Your soul belongs to God Almighty, and no earthly husband,
especially as you say he is still in his sins, is going to have the
right to interfere." This m
|