“My dear sir,” interrupted Mrs Dotropy, “if it is private, pray do not make it public.”
“Has not Miss Ruth, then, told you—”
He stopped and looked from one lady to the other.
“Miss Ruth,” said that young lady, flushing deeply, “is supposed to know nothing whatever about your transactions with Captain Bream. Shall I go and tell James to carry the box down-stairs, mother?”
Mrs Dotropy gave permission, and Ruth retired. A few minutes later, young Dalton drove away with the captain’s chest of gold.
A week after that the mother and daughter drove away from the same door to the railway station, and in process of time found themselves one pleasant afternoon at Yarmouth, in the little parlour with the window that commanded the gorgeous view of the sea, taking tea with the captain himself and his friends Jessie and Kate Seaward.
A lodging had been secured quite close to their own by the Dotropys.
“Now,” said Ruth to Jessie that evening in private, with flushed cheeks and eager eyes, “I shall be able to carry out my little plot, and see whether I am right, now that I have at last got Captain Bream down to Yarmouth.”
“What little plot?” asked Jessie.
“I may not tell you yet,” said Ruth with a laugh. “I shall let you know all about it soon.”