'And is his mother up there, too?' asked Mrs. Peck, whose processes were homely and direct. 'No, she remains in her cabin. People have different tastes. Perhaps that's one reason why Miss Mavis doesn't come to table,' I added--'her chaperon not being able to accompany her.' 'Her chaperon?' 'Mrs. Nettlepoint--the lady under whose protection she is.' 'Protection?' Mrs. Peck stared at me a moment, moving some valued morsel in her mouth; then she exclaimed, familiarly, 'Pshaw!' I was struck with this and I was on the point of asking her what she meant by it when she continued: 'Are we not going to see Mrs. Nettlepoint?' 'I am afraid not. She vows that she won't stir from her sofa.' 'Pshaw!' said Mrs. Peck again. 'That's quite a disappointment.' 'Do you know her then?' 'No, but I know all about her.' Then my companion added--'You don't meant to say she's any relation?' 'Do you mean to me?' 'No, to Grace Mavis.' 'None at all. They are very new friends, as I happen to know. Then you are acquainted with our young lady?' I had not noticed that any recognition passed between them at luncheon. 'Is she yours too?' asked Mrs. Peck, smiling at me. 'Ah, when people are in the same boat--literally--they belong a little to each other.' 'That's so,' said Mrs. Peck. 'I don't know Miss Mavis but I know all about her--I live opposite to her on Merrimac Avenue. I don't know whether you know that part.' 'Oh yes--it's very beautiful.' The consequence of this remark was another 'Pshaw!' But Mrs. Peck went on--'When you've lived opposite to people like that for a long time you feel as if you were acquainted. But she didn't take it up to-day; she didn't speak to me. She knows who I am as well as she knows her own mother.' 'You had better speak to her first--she's shy,' I remarked. 'Shy? Why she's nearly thirty years old. I suppose you know where she's going.' 'Oh yes--we all take an interest in that.' 'That young man, I suppose, particularly.' 'That young man?' 'The handsome one, who sits there. Didn't you tell me he is Mrs. Nettlepoint's son?' 'Oh yes; he acts as her deputy. No doubt he does all he can to carry out her function.' Mrs. Peck was silent a moment. I had spoken jocosely, but she received my pleasantry with a serious face. 'Well, she might let him eat his dinner in peace!' she presently exclaimed. 'Oh, he'll come back!' I said, glancing at his place. The repast continued and when it was finished I screwed my chair round to leave the table. Mrs. Peck performed the same movement and we quitted the saloon together. Outside of it was a kind of vestibule, with several seats, from which you could descend to the lower cabins or mount to the promenade-deck. Mrs. Peck appeared to hesitate as to her course and then solved the problem by going neither way. She dropped upon one of the benches and looked up at me. 'I thought you said he would come back.' 'Young Nettlepoint? I see he didn't. Miss Mavis then has given him half of her dinner.'