'Not about Captain Knowlton?' I cried, for it seemed that there was really no one else in the world for whom I very much cared.
'What was the name of his vessel?' asked Mr. Turton.
'The Seagull. You don't mean that she has been wrecked?' I faltered.
'Unfortunately, that is the fact,' was the answer.
Turning aside, I leaned against the door with my face buried in my sleeve.
Mr. Turton spoke kindly, as did Mrs. Turton in her rather cold, unsympathetic way; but nothing that any one could say made the slightest difference. I felt that I had lost my best and, indeed, my only friend.