He left under plea of business, before Mr. Carr’s return, and with a reference to the family likeness obtaining between omnibuses, asked Joan to see him safe aboard. He accompanied the request with such a distortion of visage that she rightly concluded that he wished for an opportunity to speak to her alone. “You’re looking better,” he said, when they got outside. “A year or two in London will be the making of you.” “A year or two!” echoed the startled Joan. “I’ve had quite enough of it already, thank you. I’ve never been so dull.” “You haven’t got used to the change yet,” said the captain, indulgently. “That’s natural; but in another month I expect you’ll have quite a different tale to tell.” “I am going home next weak,” said Miss Hartley, in a decided voice. Captain Trimblett coughed. “Why shouldn’t I?” inquired the girl, in reply. The captain coughed again. “I should think the Carrs would be glad to have you,” he replied, becoming suddenly busy with his handkerchief, “especially as they have got no children. And a year or two with them in town would give you a—a sort of finish.” “You have heard something from my father?” exclaimed Joan, turning on him. “He—he wrote,” said the captain. “Did he suggest my staying here?” “No,” said the captain, putting his handkerchief away with great care. “No, I can’t say he did. But he has had another interview with Mr. John Vyner, and it seems that the old gentleman is quite taking it for granted that you have left Salthaven for good. He was quite genial to your father.” “Did father undeceive him?” inquired the girl. “He didn’t say,” rejoined the other. “My idea is he didn’t; but it’s only my idea, mind.” For some time Miss Hartley walked on in disdainful silence. She broke it at last in favour of Mr. Vyner, senior. “Talking won’t alter facts, though,” said the admiring captain, shaking his head. The girl paid no heed. “Now, if you only stayed here for a little while,” said the captain, persuasively, “say a couple of years, no doubt things would right themselves. Anything might happen in two years. Mind, it’s not your father’s idea, it’s mine. I’d do anything for him; he has done me many a good turn in his time, and I want to pay him back.” Miss Hartley, softening somewhat, thanked him. “And what is two years at your time of life?” continued the captain, brightly. “Nothing. Why, I’m going away for that time as a matter of course.” “I want to go home,” said Joan. “I feel that I can’t breathe in this dreary place. You wouldn’t like me to die, would you?” “Certainly not,” said the captain, promptly. “You would sooner die yourself, wouldn’t you?” said Joan, with a sly glance at him. The captain said “Yes,” with all the comfortable assurance of a healthy man living in a civilized country. Then he started as Miss Hartley turned suddenly and pinched his arm. “Eh?” cried the captain, rubbing it.