“I haven’t done anything,” he grumbled, “that is, I’ve done what any reasonable fellow would do. I’m not the only one who thinks.... Look here! We’ve got a guardian, haven’t we?”
“A guardian! a guardian! Stephen Warren, have you been to him? Have you—Was that where you were last night?”
“Well, I—”
“Answer me!”
“What if I have? Whom else am I to go to? Isn’t he—”
“But why did you go to him? What did you say?”
“I said—I said—Never mind what I said. He agrees with me, I can tell you that. You’ll thank your stars I did go, before very long. I.... S-sh! Here’s Sylvester.”
The door of the room opened. The person who entered, however, was not the lawyer, but the very man of whom they had been speaking, Captain Elisha himself. He closed the door behind him.
“Hello, Stevie,” he said, with a nod to the boy. Then, turning to his niece, he stepped forward and held out his hand. “Caroline,” he began, “I don’t doubt you’re some surprised to see me here; but I.... Why, what’s the matter?”
The faces of the pair led him to ask the question. Stephen’s was red and he looked embarrassed and guilty. Caroline’s was white, and she glanced from her brother to her guardian and back again, with flashing eyes.