“I can’t find my glasses,” said Captain Sellers, at last, lowering himself into the chair. Then he put his hand to his ear and turned toward his visitor. “Try again,” he said, encouragingly. Captain Trimblett eyed him for a moment in helpless wrath, and then, turning on his heel, marched back through the house, and after standing irresolute for a second or two entered his own. The front room was empty, and from the silence he gathered that Mrs. Chinnery was out. He filled his pipe, and throwing himself into an easy-chair sought to calm his nerves with tobacco, while he tried to think out his position. His meditations were interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Truefitt, and something in the furtive way that gentleman eyed him as he came into the room only served to increase his uneasiness. “Very warm,” said Truefitt. The captain assented, and with his eyes fixed on the mantelpiece smoked in silence. “I saw you ... talking ... to Captain Sellers just now,” said Mr. Truefitt, after a long pause. “Aye,” said the captain. “You did.” His eyes came from the mantelpiece and fixed themselves on those of his friend. Mr. Truefitt in a flurried fashion struck a match and applied it to his empty pipe. “I’ll have the law of him,” said the captain, fiercely; “he has been spreading false reports about me.” “Reports?” repeated Mr. Truefitt, in a husky voice. “He has been telling everybody that I am about to be married,” thundered the captain. Mr. Truefitt scratched the little bit of gray whisker that grew by his ear. “I told him,” he said at last. “You?” exclaimed the amazed captain. “But it isn’t true.” Mr. Truefitt turned to him with a smile intended to be arch and reassuring. The result, owing to his nervousness, was so hideous that the captain drew back in dismay. “It’s—it’s all right,” said Mr. Truefitt at last. “Ah! If it hadn’t been for me you might have gone on hoping for years and years, without knowing the true state of her feelings toward you.” “What do you mean?” demanded the captain, gripping the arms of his chair. “Sellers is a little bit premature,” said Mr. Truefitt, coughing. “There is nothing settled yet, of course. I told him so. Perhaps I oughtn’t to have mentioned it at all just yet, but I was so pleased to find that it was all right I had to tell somebody.” “What are you—talking about?” gasped the captain. Mr. Truefitt looked up, and by a strong effort managed to meet the burning gaze before him. “I told Susanna,” he said, with a gulp. “Told her? Told her what?” roared the captain. “Told her that you said you were not worthy of her,” replied Mr. Truefitt, very slowly and distinctly. The captain took his pipe out of his mouth, and laying it on the table with extreme care listened mechanically while the clock struck five. “What did she say?” he inquired, hoarsely, after the clock had finished. Mr. Truefitt leaned over, and with a trembling hand patted him on the shoulder. “She said, ’Nonsense’” he replied, softly.