“And you found the jessamine very sweet?”
“Beautiful! beautiful!”
“Taste this port. It is not what it should be: some the old fellow laid in when he could afford it—before he married. It is passed, and going back; should have been drunk five years ago.”
Mr. Cargreen came to the table, and seated himself. Then Mr. Scantlebray flapped his arms, shook out his legs, and settled himself to the enjoyment of the lunch, in the society of Mr. Cargreen.
“The merry-thought! Pull with me, old man?”
“Certainly!”
Mr. Scantlebray and Mr. Cargreen were engaged on the merry-thought, each endeavoring to steal an advantage on the other, by working the fingers up the bone unduly, when the window was darkened.
Without desisting from pulling at the merry-thought each turned his head, and Scantlebray at once let go his end of the bone. At the window stood Captain Coppinger looking in at the couple, with his elbow resting on the window-sill.
Mr. Scantlebray flattered himself that he was on good terms with all the world, and he at once with hilarity saluted the Captain by raising the fingers greased by the bone to his brow.
“Didn’t reckon on seeing you here, Cap’n.”