There was no doubt that the captain was surprised. “Fifty DOLLARS!” he repeated. “Why—”
His wife interrupted. “That will be all right, Mr. Hungerford,” she said. “That will be quite satisfactory.”
“Of course, there are many whom you can obtain for less, and, if you feel that that figure is too high, I shall be glad to try elsewhere. I have had little experience outside of the best, but—”
Serena interrupted again. “We don't want anybody but the best,” she declared, emphatically. “Be still, Daniel. This isn't Trumet.”
Daniel drew a long breath. “There ain't much doubt of that,” he observed. “But, all right, Serena, if you and Mr. Hungerford think it's all right, I guess it is. I'm more used to hirin' sailors than I am folks to play the harp.”
“Music,” went on Mr. Hungerford, “is almost a necessity, in these days, when everyone dances. Is this a formal reception, or had you intended clearing a floor for dancing, Mrs. Dott?”
Mrs. Dott had not intended any such thing; she had not thought of it. But she concealed the fact from her visitor with remarkable presence of mind.
“Oh, of course!” she said.
The conversation continued, a conversation limited to Mr. Hungerford and his hostess, while Captain Dan remained a silent and amazed listener. The young gentleman was invited to attend the reception, Serena making many apologies for the informality of the invitation, and the guest expressing himself as delighted.
“Of course,” he said, “I wouldn't intrude for the world, but I don't feel like an intruder in this house, where I have spent so many happy hours. Feeling as I do, I'm going to make another suggestion which, under different circumstances, might be considered an impertinence. I am at leisure to-morrow—in fact, all this week—and if there is anything that I can do to help you and Cousin Daniel, in this matter of the reception or any other, I shall be at your service. I do hope you will permit me to help and that you will not consider me presuming in offering to do so.”