“Sis,” he cried, “I’m going to my room. By gad! I can’t—”
Catching a warning glance from his sister, he did not finish his sentence, but stood sulkily beside his chair. Captain Elisha looked at him, then at the girl, and stopped laughing. He folded his napkin with care, and rose.
“That’s about all of it,” he said, shortly. “I asked around at two or three of the neighbors’ houses, and the last one I asked knew where you’d moved and told me how to get here.”
When the trio were again in the library, the captain spoke once more.
“I’m ’fraid I’ve talked too much,” he said, gravely. “I didn’t realize how I was runnin’ on. Thought I was home, I guess, with the fellers of my own age down at the postoffice, instead of bein’ an old countryman, tirin’ out you two young city folks with my yarns. I beg your pardon. Now you mustn’t mind me. I see you’re expectin’ company or goin’ callin’ somewheres, so I’ll just go to my bedroom and write Abbie a line. She’ll be kind of anxious to know if I got here safe and sound and found you. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be comf’table and busy.”
He turned to go. Caroline looked at him in surprise.
“We are not expecting callers,” she said. “And certainly we are not going out to-night. Why should you think such a thing?”
It was her uncle’s turn to show surprise.
“Why,” he said, with a glance at Stephen, “I see that you’re all dressed up, and so I thought, naturally—”