Among the first to board the Policy was Sergeant Burt, who, as soon as the others had left, was in deep converse with Captain Foster. “I'm sure she meant to take your letter, Mr. Foster,” he said finally, “and that I was too quick in tearing it up.”
“I'll soon know, Burt; I'll try again this evening.”
At the Commissary's dinner that evening Dolly met him with a charming smile and cheeks suffused; and then, after Captain Foster had narrated the incidents of his successful whaling voyage, her parents discreetly left them to themselves in the garden.
“Dolly! I am a rough, uncultured sailor. Will you therefore forgive me my rudeness when we last parted?”
“Of course. I have forgotten it long ago, and I am very sorry we parted bad friends.”
“You make me very happy, Dolly. I have been speaking to your mother, and she has told me that she thinks you do care for me, Is it so? May I again——”
“Now, Captain Foster, why cannot we be friends without—without anything else. I will not pretend that I do not understand your meaning, but I tell you, once and for all, I don't want to be married. Really,” and she smiled brightly, “you are as bad as Mr. Portveldt.”
“Very well, Miss Dorothy,” said Foster with annoying equanimity, “I won't allude to the subject again. But what has the Dutchman been doing? Where is he now?”
Dolly laughed merrily. “Oh, Captain Foster, I really have no right to show you this letter, but it is so very amusing that I cannot help doing so,” and she took a letter from her pocket.
“Oh, he has been writing to you, has he?”