"Have you considered," he said, loftily, as soon as he was capable of
speech, "that it would be a lie?"

Joan nodded, carelessly.

"A lie!" repeated Captain Trimblett, in a thrilling voice.

"Yes," said Joan. "I remember I heard you tell father once that if you
had a sovereign for every lie you had told you would be able to give up
the sea. So you had better do it. You can do it better than I _can_."

Captain Trimblett threw his hands apart with a sudden supreme gesture.

"I won't listen to another word!" he said, hotly. "I should never hear
the end of it. Where are those omnibuses?"

"We are not near them yet," was the reply. "We have been walking away
from them. When you have listened to reason I will take you to them."

The captain closed his lips obstinately. He would have closed his
ears, too, if he could, but, unable to do that, quickened his pace in
a forlorn attempt to outdistance her. She plied him with arguments
and entreaties, but in vain. He was immovable. Finally, in a trembling
voice, she said that it didn't matter, and apologized for troubling him
with her concerns.

"I would do anything in reason, my dear," said the mollified captain.

"It doesn't matter," repeated the girl.

"It's quite impossible," said the captain, gently. "It's really an
outrageous idea. You'll see it yourself by and by."

Miss Hartley thanked him, and taking out a handkerchief dabbed her eyes
gently and made a pathetic attempt to smile.

"Don't say any more about it," she pleaded. "I have no doubt you are
right. Only when you said you would do anything for us I--I thought you
meant it. I see how uncomfortable it might be for you. I ought to have
thought of that before."

The unfortunate captain turned crimson, but, glancing at the spectacle
of resignation by his side, managed to keep his temper under restraint.

"I'm not thinking of myself at all," he growled.

"Perhaps you are without knowing it," suggested Miss Hartley, in a voice
free from all trace of personal feeling. "I thought that you would
have done a little thing like that for me--and father. I'm sorry I was
mistaken. However, I shall go back to Salthaven in any case."

She dabbed a perfectly dry eye again, and watched the captain closely
with the other.

"I suppose there will be trouble," she continued, meditatively; "still,
that will be your fault. I have done all I could do."

She walked on in pained silence and paid no heed to the explanations a