"Yes. Well, I only mentioned it. For my own part I look extremely well in crepe."
Louise was shocked by this speech; yet she knew that its apparent heartlessness did not really denote the state of her aunt's mind. It was merely bred of the lady's shallowness, and of her utterly self-centered existence.
That evening, long after supper and after the store lights were out, and while Cap'n Amazon and Louise were sitting as usual in the room behind the store, a hasty step on the porch and a rat-tat-tat upon the side door announced a caller than whom none could have been more unexpected.
"Aunt Euphemia!" cried Louise, when the master mariner ushered the lady in. "What has happened?"
"Haven't you heard? Did you not get a letter?" demanded Mrs. Conroth.
But she kept a suspicious eye on the captain.
"From daddy-prof?" exclaimed Louise, jumping up.
"Yes. Mailed at Gibraltar. Nothing has happened to that vessel he is on. That was all a ridiculous story. But there is something else, Louise."
"Sit down, ma'am," Cap'n Amazon was saying politely. "Do sit down, ma'am."
"Not in this house," declared the lady, with finality. "I do not feel safe here. And it's not safe for you to be here, Louise, with this—this man. You don't know who he is; nobody knows who he is. I have just heard all about it from one of the—er—natives. Mr. Abram Silt never had a brother that anybody in Cardhaven ever saw. There is no Captain Amazon Silt—and never was!"
"Oh!" gasped Louise.