'Well, God bless you, Ned. I hope that your search will be successful; but I shall not build upon it at all, and pray do not worry yourself if you do not succeed.'
They went upstairs again. Mrs. Daintree had already gone to bed.
Dorothy was sitting with the tea-tray before her when her father and Ned Hampton entered.
'I was just going to send down to you, father; I thought that you must have nearly finished your cigars.'
'Thank you, I won't take any tea, Miss Hawtrey,' Captain Hampton said, as she was about to pour out two cups. 'I only came up to say good-bye and to wish you a pleasant time abroad. As I only came back half an hour before I came across to you, I have a pile of notes to open and answer, and as I shall sail in a day or two, I shall have my hands full.'
Dorothy stood up and shook hands.
'Good-bye, Captain Hampton; thank you for your good wishes; I hope that you too will enjoy your trip.' It was said in the tone of voice in which she might have said good-bye to the most ordinary acquaintance.
Captain Hampton dropped her hand abruptly, and shook hands heartily with Mr. Hawtrey, who said, 'Good-bye, Ned; don't get yourself into any scrapes with Indians, or grizzly bears, or anything of that sort.'
'I will try not to, sir,' and Captain Hampton turned and left the room. Mr. Hawtrey turned as the door closed, and was about to say something sharply, when he saw that there were tears in Dorothy's eyes. He gulped down his irritation, took his cup of tea off the tray, and stirred it with unnecessary violence. Then he abruptly asked Dorothy if her packing was all finished.
'We must breakfast at seven sharp,' he said, 'so as to catch the boat with a quarter of an hour to spare. The exodus has begun and there is sure to be a crowd.'