She was what two thirds of Bayport would have called "dressed up." That is to say, she was wearing a simple afternoon gown instead of the workaday garb in which he had been accustomed to seeing her. It was becoming, even at the first glance he was sure of that.
"Good evening, Cap'n Kendrick," she said, again. "I wasn't expecting you this evening. Is anything the matter?"
"Oh no, no! I just ran over for a minute. I—um—yes, that's all."
He scarcely knew how to explain his errand. He had referred to it as a matter of business, but it was scarcely that. And he could not explain it at all in the presence of the guests, each one so obviously eager to have him do so.
"I just ran in," he repeated. She looked a little puzzled, and it seemed to him that she hesitated, momentarily. Then—
"Won't you come into the parlor?" she asked. Was it the captain's imagination, or did Elvira and Susanna and Desire and the rest—except Aurora, of course, who had not heard—cast significant looks at each other? It seemed to him that they did, but why? A moment later he understood.
"Come right in, Cap'n," she urged. "George is here, but you know him, of course."
They had walked the length of the hall and were almost at the door when she made this announcement. He paused.
"George?" he repeated.
"Why, yes, George Kent. But that doesn't make a bit of difference. Come in."