“You’re rather fond of the captain, aren’t you?” she said to him one day, when he had carelessly suggested to her that he thought he would run down to see the old man on the morrow.
“Yes,” said Comethup slowly. “We’ve always been—been very good friends.”
“So I should imagine,” said Miss Carlaw, with a short laugh. “Are you aware, my dear boy, that you’ve been down to see the captain five times in about seven weeks?”
“I—I didn’t think it was quite so many as that,” said Comethup. He felt grateful that his aunt could not see his face. “But you see—well, the captain’s always glad to see me—and I——”
“Yes, yes, I perfectly understand, Comethup. Now look here, boy, I’m an old woman and I’ve had a good deal to do with men and women, young and old. Boy, you’re keeping something from me, and it isn’t fair; I thought we were too good comrades for that. Come, I don’t want you to tell me anything that you’d rather keep to yourself, but you won’t humbug me into believing that you fly down to that sleepy hollow whenever you can find time for the sake of seeing the captain. Now, then, is she dark or fair?”
Comethup hesitated for a moment, then laughingly said, “Well, she’s dark.”
“Of course I don’t know the difference between one and the other,” pursued Miss Carlaw. “I only know that it makes a difference in the character. Well, I suppose you’ve sworn eternal vows, and have fully made up your minds—both of you—to die at once if anything should separate you, eh?”
“Not quite that,” said Comethup. “In fact, I haven’t—haven’t really said anything to her.”
“What? You don’t mean to tell me that you’ve been rushing backward and forward all this time and are just where you were when you started? Lord! things were different in my time. I must say you’ve been devilish slow, Comethup. Well, tell me all about it. Of course I know she’s beautiful; we’ll take that for granted. But is she nice? Is she a lady?”
“She’s everything that’s nice, and of course she’s a lady,” said Comethup. “You remember when I was quite a little fellow and you brought me to London? Do you remember also that I mentioned a child of whom I was very fond—’Linda?”