"Yes--yes, I found it, Mr. Keith."

"I thought you wouldn't have any difficulty. Mary, how do you do?"

Mary-'Gusta and Mr. Keith shook hands.

"Captain," said Keith, "I want to introduce you to my cousin, Mrs.
Wyeth."

Mrs. Wyeth bowed with dignity.

"How do you do, Captain Gould," she said.

"Why--why, I'm pretty smart, thank you, ma'am," stammered Shadrach,
rather embarrassed at all this ceremony. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

"And this young lady," went on Keith, "is Miss Mary Lathrop. Miss
Lathrop, this lady is Mrs. Wyeth, my cousin."

Mary-'Gusta, with the uneasy feeling that Mrs. Wyeth's gaze had been
fixed upon her since she entered the room, bowed but said nothing.

"And now," said Mr. Keith, heartily, "we'll have luncheon. You're just
in time and Mrs. Wyeth has been expecting you."

The Captain's embarrassment reached its height at this invitation.

"No, no," he stammered, "we--we can't do that. Couldn't think of it,
you know. We--we ain't a mite hungry. Had breakfast afore we left home,
didn't we, Mary-'Gusta?"

Keith laughed. "Yes, I know," he said; "and you left home about
half-past five. I've taken that early train myself. If you're not hungry
you ought to be and luncheon is ready. Emily--Mrs. Wyeth--has been
expecting you. She will be disappointed if you refuse."

Mrs. Wyeth herself put in a word here. "Of course they won't refuse,
John," she said with decision. "They must be famished. Refuse! The idea!
Captain Gould, Mr. Keith will look out for you; your niece will come
with me. Luncheon will be ready in five minutes. Come, Mary. That's your
name--Mary--isn't it? I'm glad to hear it. It's plain and it's sensible
and I like it. The employment bureau sent me a maid a week ago and when
she told me her name I sent her back again. It was Florina. That was
enough. Mercy! All I could think of was a breakfast food. Come, Mary.
Now, John, do be prompt."

That luncheon took its place in Mary-'Gusta's memory beside that of her
first supper in the house at South Harniss. They were both memorable
meals, although alike in no other respects. Mrs. Wyeth presided, of
course, and she asked the blessing and poured the tea with dignity and
businesslike dispatch. The cups and saucers were of thin, transparent
China, with pictures of mandarins and pagodas upon them. They looked
old-fashioned and they were; Mrs. Wyeth's grandfather had bought them
himself in Hongkong in the days when he commanded a clipper