ime for politeness sake. Fourteen
eaters and twelve halves of broiled chicken--Problem, who goes
without?"

But nobody really did that. Mrs. Bruce was mistress of the art of
carving and managed that each should have at least a small portion of
the delicacies provided, though she had to tax her ingenuity to
accomplish this.

At the head of her table Mrs. Calvert motioned Chloe to serve her
guest again and again; and each time that Ephraim jealously snatched a
dainty portion for her own plate she as promptly and quietly restored
it to the platter.

Also, the "Skipper" at his own board played such a lively knife and
fork that dishes were emptied almost before filled and Gerald
viciously remarked:

"Aren't as fond of ship's biscuit as you were, are you, Cap'n Jack?"

The Captain helped himself afresh and answered with good nature:

"Oh! yes. Jes' as fond. But I likes a change. Yes, I c'n make out to
relish 'most anything. I ain't a mite partic'lar."

This was too much for the lads and a laugh arose; but the old man
merely peered over his specs at them and mildly asked:

"What you-all laughin' at? Tell me an' lemme laugh, too. Laughin' does
old folks good. Eh, Cunnel? Don't you think so?" he asked, wheeling
around to address the guest of honor.

But that gentleman was too engaged at that moment to reply, even if he
would have condescended so to do. Just now, in the presence of Mrs.
Calvert, whose mere name was a certificate of "quality," he felt
himself an aristocrat, quite too exalted in life to notice a poor
captain of a house-boat.

Breakfast over, Aunt Betty excused herself and withdrew to the shelter
of her little stateroom. Shelter it really was, now, against her
uninvited guest. She had done her best to make his early call
agreeable and to satisfy him with more substantial things than old
memories. They had discussed all the prominent Maryland families, from
the first Proprietor down to that present day; had discovered a
possible relationship, exceedingly distant, he being the discoverer;
and had talked of their beloved state in its past and present glories
till she was utterly worn out.

He had again "given" her his most cherished possession, Billy the
mule; and she had again declined to receive it. Buy him, of course,
Dorothy would and should, if it proved that a mule was really needed.
But not without fair payment for the animal would she permit "him" to
become a member of her family. The Colonel so