It was stupid of Mrs Mannering to have suggested the possibility; not only stupid, but officious, as were also her after insinuations. Katrine flushed, as she recalled her own momentary impulse at confession. Protection was not needed: even if Captain Bedford were different from what she had expected, she could deal with the situation without help from others; could see as little or as much of him as she desired. She rose, with sudden determination, cast a last look in the glass, and walked resolutely towards the saloon. She was late, for the second course was already being cleared away, and a steady hum of conversation rose from the crowded tables. Katrine steered her way to her own seat at the far end of the great room, a graceful figure, with head held high, and flushed, frowning face. The diners followed her with their eyes, and commented among themselves. "Fine girl--beautiful eyes! Holds herself well. Pretty, but too tempery for my taste... Pity she mixes herself up with that Vernon brute. Expect she's used to a Bohemian set. Beverley's sister, I'm told... Author fellow who married Grizel Dundas. Ever met her? The most fascinating little witch! Could smile the heart out of a stone wall. Might have married any one she liked, instead of chucking away a fortune for the sake of a scribbler..." Katrine pursued her way unconscious of criticisms, which, if overheard, would have accentuated the "tempery" expression. Her heart was beating with unaccustomed quickness, she kept her eyes averted from her own empty seat, and--the seat beyond! Even at the moment of stopping she would not look, but a tall figure rose suddenly, hand shot out, a voice spoke, level and expressionless: "Miss Beverley, I believe!" It was he! Once more Katrine met the gaze of grey eyes, curiously light in the brown face; once more felt the sudden, half-fearful thrill. "Captain Bedford! I--I think I saw you on shore this afternoon." "At the hydrant. Yes!" He seated himself after her. "I enjoyed your enjoyment. It's an amusing sight when one is new to the East. Has the voyage been pleasant so far?" The words were pronounced with an amount of hesitation which comforted Katrine, by their betrayal of the fact that the nervousness was not all on her side. She made a determined effort to regain composure, and talk in natural, easy fashion. "Quite, thank you. My powers as a sailor are untried; there has been no excuse to feel ill. And I'm luxuriating in the heat. I may have too much of that soon... I hope you are better!" "Quite fit, thanks. Have you made any friends on board?"