"James," said he, slowly and with dignity, "I feel that you owe me an explanation of your strange behavior of last night."
Harley sighed. "I can't explain it to you, captain," he said. "It has to do with—with a purely family matter; but I beg your pardon for anything amiss that I may have said to you in my excitement."
"Granted, James! Granted!" returned Wigmore, with a fine gesture of the left hand. "But I am sorry, of course, that you—but it does not matter; I am old, more or less of a stranger, and of no importance. You explained your agitation to young Marsh, I understand?"
"Yes, I felt that I owed it to him."
"Very good, James. Of course I am anxious, and fairly itching with curiosity—but my curiosity does not matter in the least. It struck me as a most remarkable thing, though."
"I was foolish," said the other; "but should it happen that—that it turns out to be serious—to really mean anything—may I confide in you, captain? May I ask your advice?"
"Please do so, my dear boy," replied Wigmore cordially. "I shall be only too happy to do anything for you—or for any member of your family. But now I'll not keep you from your work any longer, James. If I may, I'll just step over to the house and pay my respects to the ladies. I have a new book in my pocket that they may be interested in."
"They'll be glad to see you, captain," said Jim sincerely. "They always are."
So the captain went to the house and Mrs. Harley and Nell were glad to see him, in spite of the fact that it was rather a busy time of day for them to receive a caller. But the captain could be very entertaining when he took the trouble to try—and he always took the required amount of trouble when he met the Harley women. Now he produced the new book from his pocket, and laid it on the table. It was a volume of literary essays; and Nell took it up eagerly. The captain talked a little of books, lightly and gracefully, and a little of travel and big cities. He had a pretty wit. Except for the gray in his beard and mustache and neatly brushed, thick hair, he did not look to be more than middle-aged while he talked. Though he always walked with a slight limp, now he stood very straight. His bright, dark eyes turned to Nell when she looked away from him. He remained for about twenty minutes, and then went away, leaving a very pleasant impression in the minds of both young women.
"What a catch he would be if he wasn't so old!" said Jim's wife, laughing.