That evening I went in to see Mrs. Nettlepoint and sat on her sea-trunk, which was pulled out from under the berth to accommodate me. It was nine o'clock but not quite dark, as our northward course had already taken us into the latitude of the longer days. She had made her nest admirably and lay upon her sofa in a becoming dressing-gown and cap, resting from her labours. It was her regular practice to spend the voyage in her cabin, which smelt good (such was the refinement of her art), and she had a secret peculiar to herself for keeping her port open without shipping seas. She hated what she called the mess of the ship and the idea, if she should go above, of meeting stewards with plates of supererogatory food. She professed to be content with her situation (we promised to lend each other books and I assured her familiarly that I should be in and out of her room a dozen times a day), and pitied me for having to mingle in society. She judged this to be a limited privilege, for on the deck before we left the wharf she had taken a view of our fellow-passengers. 'Oh, I'm an inveterate, almost a professional observer,' I replied, 'and with that vice I am as well occupied as an old woman in the sun with her knitting. It puts it in my power, in any situation, to _see_ things. I shall see them even here and I shall come down very often and tell you about them. You are not interested to-day, but you will be to-morrow, for a ship is a great school of gossip. You won't believe the number of researches and problems you will be engaged in by the middle of the voyage.' 'I? Never in the world--lying here with my nose in a book and never seeing anything.' 'You will participate at second hand. You will see through my eyes, hang upon my lips, take sides, feel passions, all sorts of sympathies and indignations. I have an idea that your young lady is the person on board who will interest me most.' 'Mine, indeed! She has not been near me since we left the dock.' 'Well, she is very curious.' 'You have such cold-blooded terms,' Mrs. Nettlepoint murmured. '_Elle ne sait pas se conduire_; she ought to have come to ask about me.' 'Yes, since you are under her care,' I said, smiling. 'As for her not knowing how to behave--well, that's exactly what we shall see.' 'You will, but not I! I wash my hands of her.' 'Don't say that--don't say that.' Mrs. Nettlepoint looked at me a moment. 'Why do you speak so solemnly?' In return I considered her. 'I will tell you before we land. And have you seen much of your son?' 'Oh yes, he has come in several times. He seems very much pleased. He has got a cabin to himself.' 'That's great luck,' I said, 'but I have an idea he is always in luck. I was sure I should have to offer him the second berth in my room.' 'And you wouldn't have enjoyed that, because you don't like him,' Mrs. Nettlepoint took upon herself to say. 'What put that into your head?'