"Can't," said Tom, bobbing his head; "must stay with my mother. Thought
you never would turn around." Jasper looked his surprise, and
involuntarily glanced by Tom. "Yes, my mother's here; we've got
separated, she's gone ahead," said Tom, jerking his head toward the
nearest exit. "She says we'll go and see you. Where?"
"Hotel Sonne," said Jasper.
Tom disappeared--rushed off to his mother to jerk himself away to a
convenient waiting-place till the disagreeable woman on the steamer had
melted into space. Then he flew back, and in incoherent sentences made
Mrs. Selwyn comprehend who she was, and the whole situation.
The earl's daughter was a true British matron, and preserved a quiet,
immovable countenance; only a grim smile passed over it now and then.
At last she remarked coolly, as if commenting on the weather, "I don't
believe she will trouble you, my son." Never a word about the lace
episode or the crowding process.
Tom sniffed uneasily. "You haven't crossed on a steamer with her,
mother."
"Never you mind." Mrs. Selwyn gave him a pat on the back. "Tom, let us
talk about those nice people," as they filed slowly out with the crowd.
Not a word did Tom lisp about the invitation to supper, but tucked his
mother's arm loyally within his own. "Sorry I forgot to engage a
table!" he exclaimed, as they entered the restaurant.
"Why, there is Tom!" exclaimed Jasper, craning his neck as his party
were about to sit down.
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