to have you. Say you
will come. Won't you, dearest?"

Nita replied by lifting her eyes with a bewildered look to the bed, and
again burst into a passion of uncontrollable sorrow.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

THE DENOUEMENT.

Being naturally a straightforward man, and not gifted with much power in
the way of plotting and scheming, Captain Wopper began in time to
discover that he had plunged his mental faculties into a disagreeable
state of confusion.

"Gillie, my lad," he said, looking earnestly at his satellite while they
walked one afternoon along the Bayswater road in the direction of
Kensington, "it's a bad business altogether."

Gillie, not having the smallest idea what the Captain referred to,
admitted that it was "wery bad indeed," but suggested that "it might be
wuss."

"It's such a perplexin' state o' things," pursued the Captain, "to be
always bouncin' up an' down wi' hopes, an' fears, an' disappointments,
like a mad barometer, not knowin' rightly what's what or who's who."

"Uncommon perplexin'," assented Gillie. "If I was you, Cappen, I'd
heave the barometer overboard along wi' the main-deck, nail yer colours
to the mast, cram the rudder into the lee-scuppers, kick up your
flyin'-jib-boom into the new moon, an' go down stern foremost like a
man!"

"Ha!" said the Captain, with a twinkle in the corner of his
"weather-eye," "not a bad notion."

"Now, my lad, I'm goin' out to my villa at Kensington to dine. There's
to be company, too, an' you're to be waiter--"

"Stooard, you mean?"

"Well, yes--stooard. Now, stooard, you'll keep a good look-out, an'
clap as tight a stopper on yer tongue as may be. I've got a little plot
in hand, d'ee see, an' I want you to help me with it. Keep your eye in
a quiet way on Dr Lawrence and Miss Gray. I've taken a fancy that
perhaps they may be in love with each other. You just let me have your
opinion on that pint after dinner, but have a care that you don't show
what you're up to, and, whatever you do, don't be cheeky."

"All right," said the stooard, thrusting both hands into his
trouser-pockets; "I'll do my best."

While these two were slowly wending their way through Kensington
Gardens, Emma Gray arrived at the Captain's villa--California Cottage,
he called it--and rang the bell. The gate was opened by Netta White,
who, although not much bigger than when first introduced to the reader,
was incomparably more beautiful and smart. Mrs Stoutley had reaso