Mr. Tredgold deliberated. "I felt sure that you would like them," he said, at last. "It was a hard struggle not to keep some of the things for myself. I've had my eye on those two Chippendale chairs for years. They belonged to an old woman in Mint Street, but she always refused to part with them. I shouldn't have got them, only one of them let her down the other day." "Let her down?" repeated Miss Drewitt, sharply. "Do you mean one of the chairs in my bedroom?" Mr. Tredgold nodded. "Gave her rather a nasty fall," he said. "I struck while the iron was hot, and went and made her an offer while she was still laid up from the effects of it. It's the one standing against the wall; the other's all right, with proper care." Miss Drewitt, after a somewhat long interval, thanked him. "You must have been very useful to my uncle," she said, slowly. "I feel sure that he would never have bought chairs like those of his own accord." "He has been at sea all his life," said Mr. Tredgold, in extenuation. "You haven't seen him for a long time, have you?" "Ten years," was the reply. "He is delightful company," said Mr. Tredgold. "His life has been one long series of adventures in every quarter of the globe. His stock of yarns is like the widow's cruse. And here he comes," he added, as a dilapidated fly drew up at the house and an elderly man, with a red, weather-beaten face, partly hidden in a cloud of grey beard, stepped out and stood in the doorway, regarding the girl with something almost akin to embarrassment. "It's not--not Prudence?" he said, at length, holding out his hand and staring at her. "Yes, uncle," said the girl. They shook hands, and Captain Bowers, reaching up for a cage containing a parrot, which had been noisily entreating the cabman for a kiss all the way from the station, handed that flustered person his fare and entered the house again. "Glad to see you, my lad," he said, shaking hands with Mr. Tredgold and glancing covertly at his niece. "I hope you haven't been waiting long," he added, turning to the latter. "No," said Miss Drewitt, regarding him with a puzzled air. "I missed the train," said the captain. "We must try and manage better next time. I--I hope you'll be comfortable." "Thank you," said the girl. "You--you are very like your poor mother," said the captain. "I hope so," said Prudence. She stole up to the captain and, after a moment's hesitation, kissed his cheek. The next moment she was caught up and crushed in the arms of a powerful and affectionate bear. "Blest if I hardly knew how to take you at first," said the captain, his red face shining with gratification. "Little girls are one thing, but when they grow up into"--he held her away and looked at her proudly--"into handsome and dignified-looking young women, a man doesn't quite know where he is." He took her in his arms again and, kissing her forehead, winked delightedly in the direction of Mr. Tredgold, who was affecting to look out of the window.