Captain Trimblett assented. “And it’s nice to be able to give up the sea,” he said with a grateful glance at Vyner. “I’m getting old, and that last bout of malaria hasn’t made me any younger.” “The youngsters seem to get on all right with Mrs. Chinnery,” said Robert, eying him closely. “Splendidly,” said the Captain. “I should never have thought that she would have been so good with children. She half worships them.” “Not all of them,” said Mr. Vyner. “All of ’em,” said the captain. “Twins, as well?” said Mr. Vyner, raising his voice. “She likes them best of all,” was the reply. Mr. Vyner rose slowly from his chair. “She is a woman in a million,” he said impressively. “I wonder why—” “They’re very good girls,” said the captain hastily. “Old Sellers thinks there is nobody like them.” “I expect you’ll be making a home for them soon,” said Robert, thoughtfully; “although it will be rather hard on Mrs. Chinnery to part with them. Won’t it?” “We are all in the hands of fate,” said the captain gazing suddenly at his tumbler. “Fate rules all things from the cradle to the grave.” He poured himself out a little more beer and lapsing into a reminiscent mood cited various instances in his own career, in confirmation. It was an interesting subject, but time was passing and Mr. Vyner, after a regretful allusion to the fact, announced that they must be going. Joan rose, and Captain Trimblett, rising at the same moment, knocked over his beer and in a moment of forgetfulness snatched the towel from the table to wipe it up. The act revealed an electro-plated salad-bowl of noble proportions, a saucer of whitening and some pieces of rag. “Halloa!” said Robert, looking from the bowl to the captain’s ruddy face. “What’s this?” “I was just giving it a clean up,” murmured the captain. “What is it,” said the other. “It’s a present,” said Captain Trimblett with a faint note of defiance in his voice. “A present from a dear old friend of mine—Captain Walsh.” He accompanied his visitors to the door and after a cordial farewell stood looking after them until their voices died away in the darkness. Then he came back into the room and, whistling cheerfully, took up a piece of rag and resumed his interrupted task. THE END