“I hope you enjoyed the performance, Captain Flower,” said Miss Tyrell, drawing herself up with some dignity. “I didn’t know that I was supposed to look out for myself all the evening. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Fraser I should have been all alone.” She looked hard at Miss Wheeler as she spoke, and the couple from the pit-stalls reddened with indignation at being so misunderstood. “I’m sure I didn’t want him,” said Miss Wheeler, hastily. “Two or three times I thought there would have been a fight with the people behind.” “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” said Miss Tyrell, composedly. “Well, it’s no good standing here. We’d better get home.” She walked off with the mate, leaving the couple behind, who realised that appearances were against them, to follow at their leisure. Conversation was mostly on her side, the mate being too much occupied with his defence to make any very long or very coherent replies. They reached Liston Street at last, and separated at the door, Miss Tyrell shaking hands with the skipper in a way which conveyed in the fullest possible manner her opinion of his behaviour that evening. A bright smile and a genial hand-shake were reserved for the mate. “And now,” said the incensed skipper, breathing deeply as the door closed and they walked up Liston Street, “what the deuce do you mean by it?” “Mean by what?” demanded the mate, who, after much thought, had decided to take a leaf out of Miss Tyrell’s book. “Mean by leaving me in another part of the house with that Wheeler girl while you and my intended went off together?” growled Flower ferociously. “Well, I could only think you wanted it,” said Fraser, in a firm voice. “_What?_” demanded the other, hardly able to believe his ears “I thought you wanted Miss Wheeler for number four,” said the mate, calmly. “You know what a chap you are, cap’n.” His companion stopped and regarded him in speechless amaze, then realising a vocabulary to which Miss Wheeler had acted as a safety-valve all the evening, he turned up a side street and stamped his way back to the _Foam_ alone. CHAPTER V. THE same day that Flower and his friends visited the theatre, Captain Barber gave a small and select tea-party. The astonished Mrs. Banks had returned home with her daughter the day before to find the air full of rumours about Captain Barber and his new housekeeper. They had been watched for hours at a time from upper back windows of houses in the same row, and the professional opinion of the entire female element was that Mrs. Church could land her fish at any time she thought fit. “Old fools are the worst of fools,” said Mrs. Banks, tersely, as she tied her bonnet strings; “the idea of Captain Barber thinking of marrying at his time of life.” “Why shouldn’t he?” enquired her daughter. “Why because he’s promised to leave his property to Fred and you, of course,” snapped the old lady; “if he marries that hussy it’s precious little you and Fred will get.”