“Why—why, certainly. Oh, yes, indeed. Ah—yes,” faltered Galusha. If there was one thing which he distinctly did not want, it was just that. And there was no doubt that Cabot was wavering.
“But, you see, Miss Phipps,” said Cousin Gussie, “it will be quite impossible. My chauffeur—”
“Yes, I know. I'm awfully sorry I haven't got a room for him. I wish I had. But he can go to Elmer's. He wouldn't mind so much—at least I hope he wouldn't—and there's a garage for the car over there. I spoke to him about it and he's only waitin' for you to say the word, Mr. Cabot.”
The visitor protested a bit more and then yielded. “Frankly, Miss Phipps,” he said, “I have been wanting to stay ever since I entered your door. This house takes me back to my boyhood, when I used to visit my great-uncle Hiram down at Ostable. You remember him, Galusha, Uncle Hiram's dining room had the same wholesome, homey atmosphere that yours has, Miss Phipps. And I honestly believe I haven't enjoyed a meal since those old days as I have enjoyed this supper of yours.”
Martha colored with pleasure. Galusha, forgetting his powder barrel, beamed in sympathy.
“But there is just one more thing,” continued Cousin Gussie. “You and Bangs were going out somewhere, were expected at some—er—social affair, weren't you?”
Miss Phipps and her lodger exchanged looks. Both appeared embarrassed.
“Well—well, you see,” faltered the former. Then, after a moment's reflection, she added, “Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Cabot.”
She did tell him, briefly, of Captain Hallett's spirit obsession, of her friendship and sympathy for Lulie. She said nothing, of course, concerning the latter's love story.
“So,” she said, in conclusion, “although I haven't the least bit of belief in Marietta Hoag or any of her seances, I am sorry for Cap'n Jethro and I am very fond of Lulie. She is worried, I know, and she has asked me to be there tonight. You and Mr. Bangs will excuse me, everything considered, won't you?”