"Bream! Bream Mortimer! What a silly thing to hope!"
"Well, you see, I told you that Mr. Mortimer was father's best friend. They are both over in England now, and are trying to get a house in the country for the summer which we can all share. I rather think the idea is to bring me and Bream closer together."
"How the deuce could that fellow be brought any closer to you? He's like a burr as it is."
"Well, that was the idea, I'm sure. Of course, I could never look at Bream now."
"I hate looking at him myself," said Sam feelingly.
A group of afflicted persons, bent upon playing with long sticks and bits of wood, now invaded the upper deck. Their weak-minded cries filled the air. Sam and the girl rose.
"Touching on your father once more," he said as they made their way below, "is he a very formidable sort of man?"
"He can be a dear. But he's rather quick-tempered. You must be very ingratiating."
"I will practise it in front of the glass every morning for the rest of the voyage," said Sam.
He went down to the stateroom in a mixed mood of elation and apprehension. He was engaged to the most wonderful girl in the world, but over the horizon loomed the menacing figure of Father. He wished he could induce Billie to allow him to waive the formality of thawing Father. Eustace Hignett had apparently been able to do so. But that experience had presumably engendered a certain caution in her. The Hignett fiasco had spoiled her for runaway marriages. Well, if it had to be done, it must be done, and that was all there was to it.