"Don't you?"
"No, I don't. I came in just now by the back door, and there was no one in the kitchen, so—so I waited for a minute."
"Why did you come by the back door? You didn't use to. Mother and I are usually in the office, or, at least, we are always glad to come there when you call."
He was still bewildered, but irritated, too.
"Why did I come by the back door?" he repeated. "Why, I've come that way a dozen times in the last fortnight. Don't you want me to come that way?"
Now she looked a trifle confused, but the flush was still on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye.
"I'm sure I don't care how often you come that way," she said. "But—well, mother is matron here, Cap'n Kendrick. She may not be—perhaps she isn't—the most businesslike and orderly person in the world, but she is my mother. If you have any complaints to make, if you want to find out how things are kept, or managed, or——"
"Here!" he broke in. "Wait! What do you mean? Do you suppose I sneaked into this kitchen by myself to peek into that closet, and—and spy on your mother's managin'?... You don't believe anything of that kind. You can't."
She was more embarrassed now. "Why—why, no, I don't, Cap'n Kendrick," she admitted. "Of course I know you wouldn't sneak anywhere. But—but I have been given to understand that you and—well, Mr. Bradley—have not been—are not quite satisfied with the management—with mother's management. And——"
"Wait! Heave to!" Sears was excited now, and, as usual when excited, drifted into nautical phraseology. "What do you mean by sayin' I am not satisfied? Who told you that?"