'! Don't talk to
ME."

The captain found it practically impossible to talk to anybody. Hapgood
was busy; Serena was busier, and Azuba was busiest of all. Wherever he
went he seemed to be in the way, and when he fled for walks up and down
the streets the crowds of strange faces made him feel lonelier than
ever. On the evening before that upon which the reception was to be held
he returned from one of these walks to find Serena in tears.

"Why, good gracious sakes!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter?"

"Matter!" sobbed his wife. "Oh, dear me! Everything is the matter! I'm
so tired I don't know what to do, and Annette and Mrs. Lake were coming
here to-morrow to help me, and now they can't come. They'll be at the
reception, of course, but they can't come before; and there's so much to
get ready and I don't know whether I'm doing it right or not. What SHALL
I do!"

Daniel shook his head. "Seems to me I'd do the best I could and let it
go at that," he advised. "If they ain't satisfied I'd let 'em stay the
other way. I wish I could help you, but I don't know how."

"Of course you don't. You don't have any sympathy for the whole thing,
and I know it. I feel it all the time. You haven't any sympathy for ME."

The captain sighed. He had a vague feeling that he could use a little
sympathy himself, but with characteristic unselfishness he put that idea
from his mind.

"I guess what you need is a manager," he said. "Somebody that's used to
these sort of things that could help you out. I wish I knew where there
was one."

Hapgood appeared and announced that dinner was served. Serena hurriedly
dried her eyes and they descended to the dining-room. Just as they were
about to take their seats at the table the doorbell rang. Hapgood left
the room and returned a few moments later bearing a card on a tray.
Serena took the card, looked at it, and then at her husband. Her face
expressed astonishment and dismay.

"Why, Daniel!" she exclaimed under her breath. "Why, Daniel! WHO do you
suppose is here?"

Her husband announced that he didn't know. He took the card from her
hand and looked at it. It was a very simple but very correct card, and
upon it in old English script was the name "Mr. Percy Hungerford."

Daniel's face reflected the astonishment upon his wife's.

"My soul!" he muttered. "Percy Hungerford! Why, that's--that's the
cousin; the one Aunt Laviny cut out of her will; the one that would have
had all this place and all t