“Oh, I was just sort of generally mysterious and wistful and ’eart-’eavy, like you advised,” replied Captain Gooster. “And I got ’er to confess that there was a time when she ’oped—”
“Then she’s as good as yours!” joyfully declared Horace. “And the berth on the ‘Alert’ is as good as mine!”
It was during the following evening that there occurred a startling development in the engagement of Captain Gooster to Mrs. Goffley. Horace and that lady had been chatting together gaily, and Miss Goffley was permitting the captain to turn over her music at the piano for her, when suddenly the skipper of the “Alert” sprang to the centre of the room and crashed both his fists down upon the table.
Mrs. Goffley, with an agitated squeal, tugged her hand away from Mr. Dobb’s grasp.
“Too late, ma’am, too late!” thundered Captain Gooster.
“I—he—we—he was only telling me my fortune!” protested Mrs. Goffley, guiltily.
“I see ’im telling it,” retorted the skipper, grimly. “Do you think I ain’t got any eyes? Carrying-on! Flirting! That’s what you was up to! Don’t trouble to make up lies about it.”
“Just because I was making myself pleasant to your friend,” began Mrs. Goffley, with spirit.
“You go on making yourself pleasant to ’im!” recommended Captain Gooster. “I’m done with you!”
“And I must say, ma, I’m not surprised, either,” mentioned Miss Goffley, with a toss of her head.