“Pray take this one,” said Jessie, pointing to the old arm-chair, which was strong enough even for him, “our visitors are not usually such—such—”
“Thumping walruses! out with it, Miss Seaward,” said the captain, seating himself—gently, for he had suffered in this matter more than once during his life—“I’m used to being found fault with for my size.”
“Pray do not imagine,” said Jessie, hastening to exculpate herself, “that I could be so very impolite as—as to—”
“Yes, yes, I know that,” interrupted the captain, blowing his nose—and the familiar operation was in itself something awful in such a small room—“and I am too big, there’s no doubt about that however, it can’t be helped. I must just grin and bear it. But I came here on business, so we’ll have business first, and pleasure, if you like, afterwards.”
“You may go now,” said Kate at this point to Liffie Lee, who was still standing transfixed in open-mouthed amazement gazing at the visitor.
With native obedience and humility the child left the room, though anxious to see and hear more.
“You have a furnished room to let I believe, ladies,” said the captain, coming at once to the point.
Jessie and Kate glanced at each other. The latter felt a strong tendency to laugh, and the former replied:—
“We have, indeed, one small room—a very small room, in fact a mere closet with a window in the roof,—which we are very anxious to let if possible to a lady—a—female. It is very poorly furnished, but it is comfortable, and we would make it very cheap. Is it about the hiring of such a room that you come?”
“Yes, madam, it is,” said the captain, decisively.