Then the entire
saloon was suddenly excited. Isabel Joy had entered. She was in the
gallery, near the orchestra, at a small table alone. Everybody became
aware of the fact in an instant, and scores of necks on the lower
floor were twisted to glimpse the celebrity on the upper. It was
remarked that she wore a magnificent evening-dress.
One subject of conversation now occupied all the tables. And it was
fully occupying the purser's table when the purser, generally a little
late, owing to the arduousness of his situation on the ship, entered
and sat down. Now the purser was a northerner, from Durham, a
delightful companion in his lighter moods, but dour, and with a high
conception of authority and of the intelligence of dogs. He would
relate that when he and his wife wanted to keep a secret from their
Yorkshire terrier they had to spell the crucial words in talk, for
the dog understood their every sentence. The purser's views about
the cause represented by Isabel Joy were absolutely clear. None
could mistake them, and the few clauses which he curtly added to the
discussion rather damped the discussion, and there was a pause.
"What should you do, Mr. Purser," said Edward Henry, "if she began to
play any of her tricks here?"
"If she began to play any of her tricks in this ship," answered the
purser, putting his hands on his stout knees, "we should know what to
do?"
"Of course you can arrest?"
"Most decidedly.
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