Lady Betty Across the Water

								

Mother smiled on Mrs. Ess Kay in the beginning. It was because she
thought Miss Woodburn might do for Stanforth, who must marry money,
and is too poor, horribly poor, to be much of a catch with most English
heiresses, who aren't as keen on titles as they used to be, unless
there's some solid foundation for them to stand on, and not wobble.
Everyone says Miss Woodburn's a great heiress, and though she's a few
years older than Stan, she's a lady, a charming creature, and not bad
looking. Mother thought all that out, the day they were introduced to
her at the Northminster's concert, so she invited them here. But Stan
and the Woodburn wouldn't look at each other. It was useless even for
Mother's genius to attempt the impossible, so she resigned herself to
the inevitable, and gave the thing up. She meant to drop the Americans
gently--which she could easily do as they were going home soon--when
this new idea popped up. It's really important for me, dear. I do want
you to see that. It will be so much better all around if you are out of
the way, anyhow until I'm safely engaged, and the wedding-day fixed.
Then, you know, if you haven't meanwhile picked up an American
millionaire on the other side--don't look so horrified!--Mother will be
able to devote herself to you, heart and soul, as she has to me. Next
spring you can be presented----"
"Don't bribe," I said, feeling as if I wanted to cry. "If you want to
get rid of me, I'll go without that. But I should have thought I might
be sent again to Aunt Sophy's."
"Not again till our magnificent cousin's safely married. She wouldn't
have you there. Remember how she sent you home, last time. Poor
Loveland! He too, must think about collecting honest gold (somebody
else's), to brighten up his coronet. We're a poverty-stricken lot, my
child, and it's for me, with your help, to retrieve the fallen fortunes
of this branch of the family."
"That's settled then," said I, as drily as I could with wet tears in
the background. "And now, let's go to bed, please. I'm sleepy."
I wasn't; but my eyes were hot, and there was a lump in my throat. I
was homesick--dreadfully homesick, for something--I don't know what,
but it seemed to be something I've never had yet and probably never can
have. That is why I wanted to be alone, and write everything down
exactly as it has happened.

II
ABOUT CROSSING THE WATER

Only ten days have passed, but I feel as if they were a hundred, I have
lived so much. I've heard people near me in deck-chairs saying that
it's been a "dull voyage," but whatever else it has been for me, it
hasn't been dull.
In the first place, I've never been on the sea before, except crossing
the Channel, which doesn't count, of course. And now that I've been
thrown with so many people--all sorts of people--I realise how few I
have known in my life, so far. If I had about twice as many fingers and