He did, of course, for the group in the back sitting room was made up of the regular guests. He shook hands with them all, including Miss Snowden, who greeted him with queenly condescension, and little Mrs. Tidditt, who jerked his arm up and down as if it was a pump handle, and affirmed that she was glad to see him, adding, as an after thought, "Even if I did see you afore to-day."
"Now you are just in time, Cap'n Kendrick," said Miss Elvira. "We are going to have our usual little 'sing' before we go to bed. Desire—Miss Peasley—plays the melodeon for us and we sing a few selections, sacred selections usually, it is our evening custom. Do join us, Cap'n Kendrick. We should love to have you."
The captain thanked them, but declined. He had run in only for a moment, he said, a matter of business, and must not stop.
"Besides, I shouldn't be any help," he added. "I can't sing a note."
Miss Snowden would have uttered some genteel protest, but Mrs. Tidditt spoke first.
"Humph! That won't make any difference," she announced. "Neither can any of the rest of us—not the right notes."
Possibly Elvira, or Susanna, might have retorted. The former looked as if she were about to, but Mrs. Aurora Chase came forward.
"And it wasn't more'n ha'f past six neither," she declared with conviction.
Just why or when it was half past six, or what had happened at that time, or what fragment of conversation Aurora's impaired hearing had caught which led her to think this happening was being discussed, the captain was destined never to learn. For at that instant Miss Berry came into the room, entering from the hall.
"Who is it?" she asked. "Why, good evening, Cap'n Kendrick."