Shirley Claiborne and Captain Richard Claiborne, her brother, were on
deck watching the shipping in the Mersey as the big steamer swung into
the channel.
"I hope," observed Dick, "that we have shaken off all your transatlantic
suitors. That little Chauvenet died easier than I had expected. He never
turned up after we left Florence, but I'm not wholly sure that we shan't
find him at the dock in New York. And that mysterious Armitage, who spent
so much railway fare following us about, and who almost bought you a
watch in Geneva, really disappoints me. His persistence had actually
compelled my admiration. For a glass-blower he was fairly decent, though,
and better than a lot of these little toy men with imitation titles."
"Is that an American cruiser? I really believe it is the _Tecumseh_. What
on earth were you talking about, Dick?"
Shirley fluttered her handkerchief in the direction of the American flag
displayed by the cruiser, and Dick lifted his cap.
"I was bidding farewell to your foreign suitors, Shirley, and
congratulating myself that as soon as _pere et mere_ get their sea legs
they will resume charge of you, and let me look up two or three very
presentable specimens of your sex I saw come on board.
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