Elizabeth liked Egbert, there was no doubt of that. Once when she and the captain were together in the Fair Harbor office Phillips entered. Sears and Elizabeth were bending over the ledger and Egbert opened the door. Sears and the young lady were not in the least embarrassed—of course there was not the slightest reason why they should be—but, oddly enough, Phillips seemed to be. He stepped back, coughed, fidgeted with the latch, and then began to apologize.
"I—I really beg your pardon," he said. "I am sorry.... I didn't know—I didn't realize—I'm so sorry."
Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. "But there is nothing for you to be sorry about," she declared. "What is it? I don't understand."
Egbert still retained his hold upon the latch with one hand. His hat, gloves and cane were in the other. It is perhaps the best indication of his standing in the community, the fact that, having lived in Bayport for some weeks and being by his own confession a poor man, he could still go gloved and caned on week days as well as Sundays and not be subject to ridicule even by the Saturday night gang in Eliphalet Bassett's store.
He fidgeted with the latch and turned as if to go.
"I should have knocked, of course," he protested. "It was most careless of me. I do hope you understand. I will come—ah—later."
"But I don't understand," repeated the puzzled Elizabeth. "It was perfectly all right, your coming in. There is no reason why you should knock. The cap'n and I were going over the bills, that's all."
Mr. Phillips looked—well, he looked queer.
"Oh!" he said. "Yes—yes, of course. But one doesn't always care to be interrupted in—even in business matters—ah—sometimes."
Elizabeth laughed. "I'm sure I don't mind," she said. "Those business matters weren't so frightfully important."