prised at the vehemence of her denial. With a slightly offended air
he pointed out that it was a very small matter after all.

"There is nothing to be annoyed about," he said.

"You went there to see me, and, not finding me there, came down again."

"Ye-es," said Joan, thoughtfully.

"Just put her head in at the door and fled," explained the captain,
still watching her closely.

Miss Hartley appeared not to have heard him.

"Came down three stairs at a time," he continued, with a poor attempt at
a chuckle.

"I was there about half an hour waiting for father," said Joan, eying
him very steadily. "I thought that he was in the other office. Is there
anything else I can tell you?"

The captain collapsed suddenly, and, turning a red face upon Hartley,
appealed to him mutely for succour.

"Me?" he spluttered, feebly. "I--I don't want to know anything. Your
father thought--"

"I didn't think anything," said Hartley, with some haste.

The captain eyed him reproachfully. "I thought your father thought--" he
began, and, drawing out a large handkerchief, blew his nose violently.

"Yes?" said Joan, still very erect.

"That is all," said the captain, with an air of dignity.

He brushed some imaginary atoms from his beard, and, finding the girl's
gaze still somewhat embarrassing, sought to relieve the tension.

"I've known you since you were five," he said, with inconsequent pathos.

"I know," said Joan, smiling, and putting her hand on his broad
shoulder. "You're a dear old stupid; that is all."

"Always was," said the relieved captain, "from a child."

He began, with a cheerful countenance, to narrate anecdotes of his
stupidity until, being interrupted by Hartley with one or two choice
examples that he had forgotten, he rose and muttered something about
seeing the garden. His progress was stayed by a knock at the front door
and an intimation from Rosa that he was wanted.

"My bo'sun," he said, reentering the room with a letter. "Excuse me."

He broke the seal, and turned to Hartley with a short laugh. "Peter
Truefitt," he said, "wants me to meet him at nine o'clock and go home
together, pretending that he has been here with me. Peter is improving."

"But he can't go on like this forever," said his scandalized friend.

"He's all right," said the captain, with a satisfied wink. "I'm looking
after him. I'm stage-manager. I'll see----"

His voice faltered, and then died away as he caught Miss Hartley's eye
an