The one drop of sweetness in his cup was the news that Mrs. Chinnery was away from home for a few days, and after carefully reconnoitring from the bridge of the _Indian Chief_ that evening he set off to visit his lodgings. He reached Tranquil Vale unmolested, and, entering the house with a rather exaggerated air of unconcern, nodded to Mr. Truefitt, who was standing on the hearthrug smoking, and hung up his cap. Mr. Truefitt, after a short pause, shook hands with him. “She’s away,” he said, in a deep voice. “She? Who?” faltered the captain. “Susanna,” replied Mr. Truefitt, in a deeper voice still. The captain coughed and, selecting a chair with great care, slowly seated himself. “She left you her best wishes,” continued Mr. Truefitt, still standing, and still regarding him with an air of severe disapproval. “Much obliged,” murmured the captain. “She would do it,” added Mr. Truefitt, crossing to the window and staring out at the road with his back to the captain. “And she said something about a silver-plated butter-dish; but in the circumstances I said ’No.’ Miss Willett thought so too.” “How is Miss Willett?” inquired the captain, anxious to change the subject. “All things considered, she’s better than might be expected,” replied Mr. Truefitt, darkly. Captain Trimblett said that he was glad to hear it, and, finding the silence becoming oppressive, inquired affectionately concerning the health of Mrs. Willett, and learned to his discomfort that she was in the same enigmatical condition as her daughter. “And my marriage is as far off as ever,” concluded Mr. Truefitt. “Some people seem to be able to get married as often as they please, and others can’t get married at all.” “It’s all fate,” said the captain, slowly; “it’s all arranged for us.” Mr. Truefitt turned and his colour rose. “Your little affair was arranged for you, I suppose?” he said, sharply. “It was,” said the captain, with startling vehemence. Mr. Truefitt, who was lighting his pipe, looked up at him from lowered brows, and then, crossing to the door, took his pipe down the garden to the summer-house. CHAPTER XVIII “THIS time to-morrow night,” said Mr. Walters, as he slowly paced a country lane with Miss Jelks clinging to his arm, “I shall be at sea.” Miss Jelks squeezed his arm and gave vent to a gentle sigh. “Two years’ll soon slip away,” she remarked. “It’s wonderful how time flies. How much is twice three hundred and sixty-five?” “And you mind you behave yourself,” said the boatswain, hastily. “Remember your promise, mind.” “Of course I will,” said Rosa, carelessly. “You’ve promised not to ’ave your evening out till I come back,” the boatswain reminded her; “week-days and Sundays both. And it oughtn’t to be no ’ardship to you. Gals wot’s going to be married don’t want to go gadding about.” “Of course they don’t,” said Rosa. “I shouldn’t enjoy being out without you neither. And I can get all the fresh air I want in the garden.”