"And no doubt Max inherits the taste for a seafaring life from me and my forebears."
"Father," said Lulu, "you will let me be your amanuensis again, will you not?"
"Thank you for your willingness to serve me in that, daughter," the Captain returned pleasantly, "but you will find quite enough to do here in your own house, and both your Mamma Vi and your Sister Grace have taken up your work in that line—sometimes one and sometimes the other following my dictation upon the typewriter."
"Oh, I am glad that they can and will, for your sake, father, but I hope I shall be permitted to do a little of my old work for you once in a while."
"That is altogether likely," he said. "But now as we have finished eating and drinking shall we not take our stroll about the grounds?"
They did so, chatting pleasantly as was their wont; then returning to the veranda they found Max and Evelyn there.
Morning greetings were exchanged, then Evelyn, saying that their breakfast was just ready, invited the Captain to come in and share it. But he declined, giving the same reason as before to Lucilla's invitation.
"I am going home now to breakfast with wife and children," he said, "and I hope you older ones of my flock will join us a little later."
"We will all be glad to do that, father," said Max. "At least I can speak for myself and think I can for these two daughters of yours. Woodburn is to me a dear old home where some of the happiest hours of my life have been spent."
"And you can't love it much better than Lu and I do," added Evelyn.