s speaks of Mother in that way,) "the dear Duchess has entrusted
you to my charge, Betty, and I don't know what I shall do if you take
advantage of me by playing naughty tricks whenever I am incapacitated
from chaperoning you for half an hour."

One would have thought I was a trained dog! I simply stared with saucer
eyes, and she went on. "Mrs. Collingwood came in to enquire for my
headache, and she told me that you have been running about begging for
money to give to a common man in the steerage. I sent instantly for
Sally, but she either knows, or pretends to know nothing."

I rushed into explanations, sure that when Mrs. Ess Kay understood, I
should be pronounced "not guilty." But to my surprise, her chin grew
squarer and squarer, and her eyes harder and lighter, till they looked
almost white.

"I don't want to be harsh," she said at last, in the tone people use
when they're walking on the ragged edge of their patience, "but for the
Duchess's sake, I must be _firm_. It was very wrong of Tommy Doremus to
let you make yourself so conspicuous. This may lead to your being
dreadfully misunderstood and putting yourself and all of us in a false
position. The man may be a _butcher_ for all you know."

"His complexion isn't pink and white enough for a butcher's," said I.
"Besides, I thought that in America one man was as good as another."

"You were never more mistaken in your life, my dear girl; and the
sooner you correct such an impression the better, or you may get into
serious trouble from which I can't save you. If the steerage man isn't
a butcher, he's probably a professional swimmer, and the whole thing
was a _scheme_, to advertise himself. In fact, I am pretty certain from
what Mrs. Collingwood said, it _was_ that. And I want you to promise me
solemnly that you will _not_ go around helping to advertise the
creature any more. If you say you admire such a person, people will
think you're like the Matinee Girls, who wait at stage doors and run
after actors."

I was so angry, that I "talked back"; and it finally ended in our
relations being somewhat strained at dinner, which ruined my appetite,
until a peculiarly soothing iced pudding came on.

Afterwards, Mrs. Ess Kay was cool to Mr. Doremus, and would have been
cold, I think, if he weren't Mrs. Van der Windt's cousin. He lounged up
to our place on deck to give me the news that the Third Class Hero (as
he calls the bronze young man) refused to be Second Class. He