Captain Barnes laughed. “It’s a fact he was on the navigating bridge, lending a hand. But still—what could he do?” “Seems to me he took the opportunity to bring us to his own door. Well, that’s that. I shall leave the maids behind. Our wives will need them in any case.” They went on deck and found the rest of the company gathered there. The two mothers, with the advice of Mrs. Sprot, were quite definite; their daughters should not go on such an absurd expedition. “This is the maddest thing my husband has agreed to yet,” said Lady Sombrewater. “I protested from the beginning. I protested against the voyage. I pointed out that we were quite comfortable at home, but I was not listened to. I protested against this outlandish China, but I was laughed at. I protested during the storm. I had a feeling that we were being plotted against. But nobody seemed to be able to do anything or have any sense at all. And now look what a pickle we’re in, landed here like this, as Mr. Sprot so rightly says. I protest——” She looked round for something to protest against. “I protest against this kind of scenery. It’s most un-English. My daughter shall not go.” “Of course not, mother,” said Lychnis. But she smiled at her father and pinched Ambrose’s arm. Ruby saw it. “Oh, mother,” she pouted, interpreting the signs, “if Lychnis is going, why can’t I go, too?” “But Lychnis is not going,” said Lady Sombrewater, with firm reproof; and Ruby, who was not so quick as she was red and white and lovely, looked terribly confused. “Then,” put in Quentin, “the sensations that we experience on our journey will be very much abated in sharpness, because, for a man who is pure in heart, like myself, there is nothing gives so much point to the beauty of early morning, to the sudden revelation of a landscape, the contemplation of the purity of flowers, the noonday rest, and the bed among bracken under the winds of night, as the neighbourhood of a couple of maidens.” The three ladies glanced at the girls and at one another, and their eyes were guardian angels. “I absolutely put my foot down,” said Lady Sombrewater. “And I mine,” added Lady Frew-Gaff. “In any case, if one of the girls fell sick, who would look after her, I should like to know?” “Oh, come now, my dear!” put in her husband. “I myself, though not an expert, know a good deal about the body——” “Encyclopædic Richard,” observed Quentin. “And for the matter of that, I also know something of the body.” “And Blackwood was actually a professional physiologist.” “A physiologist is not a mother,” said Lady Sombrewater. “The body,” observed Blackwood, “is but a collection of obscene guts and unpleasant juices. Beauty is therefore a superficial illusion and the reality is extremely revolting. The body——” Lady Sombrewater waved the girls away. She was used to these uncompromising declarations of the Sages, but she had not got to like them, and she could still protect the girls.