"She has enough responsibilities without them at present, poor soul, so perhaps it's just as well. She has been ill ever since we started, and has no friend nor servant to look after her. She fell on the floor in a faint one day while she was trying to dress, and lay there helpless until the stewardess happened to go in and find her. That sort of thing sha'n't happen twice on board this ship, if _I_ can help it!" cried Peggy with a straightening of the slim little back which seemed to add a couple of inches to her height, and a toss of the head which convinced Major Darcy that it was no use arguing further on this point. It was astonishing how often he was forced to retire from post to post in arguments with Miss Saville, and the consciousness that this was the case gave him courage to enter yet a third protest. "Well, at least, old Schute is hearty enough! There is no necessity to pity him; and, really, don't you know, he is hardly the right sort of friend for you. Do you know who he is? The proprietor of one of the big drapers' shops in Calcutta." "It was a very good shop," said Peggy reflectively. "They were most obliging in sending patterns. Two of the assistants were in a class mother held for English girls, and they said he was so kind and considerate, and had even paid to send some of them to the hill, after they had been ill. I've a great respect for Mr Schute." "Quite so; but that's not exactly a reason why you should play halma with him. I've a respect for him also, if what you say is true, but he is not in our class, as he himself would acknowledge, and it's not the thing for you to be seen talking to him. There are certain restrictions which we must all observe." "Excuse me--I don't observe them. I am Mariquita Saville. Nothing that I can do can alter that fact, or take from me the position to which I was born," replied Peggy, with that air of overweening pride in her belongings which had a distinctly humorous aspect in the eyes of her companion, for though a county name and some well-won decorations are, no doubt, things to be valued, nothing short of a pedigree traced direct from the Flood itself would have justified the ineffable assurance of her manner. He was not rash enough, however, to put such a reflection into words, so he stood in silence until once again the girl turned to leave him, when he found his tongue quickly enough. "You are really going then?" "Certainly I'm going!" "You'll tire yourself out with those children, and get a headache into the bargain in the stuffy cabins." "I think it's extremely probable." "Then why will you be obstinate, and go in spite of all I can, say?"