“All full of old friends!” said Mrs. Fazackerly delightedly. “Palmer, I’m sure I remember him--and Pritchard? I’ve often heard you speak of Pritchard, I’m sure, Father.” She tries very hard, I know, to be interested in these rather sinister celebrities, but old Carey never meets his daughter halfway. “Pritchard was a bungler of the first water,” he witheringly replied. “That servant of yours has no sense, Nancy; she hasn’t filled the tea caddy.” “I ought to have done it myself. I never let her touch the China tea, you know.” “This isn’t China tea.” “Oh, Father, it is indeed. I had it specially down from the Stores, only a week ago.” “Then why did you tell me yesterday, when we were talking about the weekly books, that you hadn’t had anything from the Stores for six months?” Old Carey is always laying traps for his daughter, and she is always falling into them. “Did I say that? I suppose I forgot about the tea,” she said valiantly. “You are the worst housekeeper in England, I believe,” was her parent’s dispassionate retort. Captain Patch broke in with some inquiry about the little book on poison cases. Unlike Mrs. Fazackerly, he never confused the Mannings with the Seddons, and he always appeared to be genuinely interested in the records of their activities. Mrs. Fazackerly looked at him gratefully. She had a strong feeling of friendliness for red-headed Captain Patch. He was always so ready to put kindly interpretations upon everything, and she sometimes felt that there was a good deal in her life, both past and present, that positively craved for kindly interpretations. Mrs. Fazackerly told me that sometimes she sighed with relief, as she woke in the morning to the remembrance of her paying guest’s presence. She had never before known such an easy summer. The money from Captain Patch was paid into her account regularly and he not only gave no trouble, but was the only person to whom her father, for many years, had taken a liking. Since Captain Patch had been at the Cottage talking and joking, and above all, always ready to listen, Mrs. Fazackerly’s father had found fault with her less often and had made fewer demands upon her. “It would be nice to have a little fun,” Mrs. Fazackerly may have thought to herself, wistfully, from time to time. “The fish is here please ’m. He would like to speak to you.” “Oh!” said Mrs. Fazackerly, startled. “The fish. Very well; thank you, Bessie. I will come and speak to the fish at once.” She turned towards the house again, recapitulating mentally the points to which she had already decided that the attention of “the fish” must be drawn. After that, she certainly had no more time in which to think about improbable accessions of happiness to herself. Old Carey, whether or not at the suggestion of Captain Patch, announced his intention of spending the afternoon and evening at the Club.