“Good-evening,” said Flower, as Mr. Wheeler opened the door; “this is my mate.”
“Glad to see you, sir,” said Mr. Wheeler.
The mate made his acknowledgments, and having shaken hands, carefully wiped his down the leg of his trousers.
“Moist hand you’ve got, Wheeler,” said Flower, who had been doing the same thing.
“Got some dye on ’em at the docks,” said Wheeler, glibly. “I’ve ’ad ’em in soak.”
Flower nodded, and after a brief exchange of courtesies with Mrs. Wheeler as he passed the door, led the way up the narrow staircase to Miss Tyrell’s room.
“I’ve brought him with me, so that he’ll be company for Emma Wheeler,” said the skipper, as Fraser shook hands with her, “and you must look sharp if you want to get good seats.
“I’m ready all but my hat and jacket,” said Poppy, “and Emma’s in her room getting ready, too. All the children are up there helping her.”
Fraser opened his eyes at such a toilet, and began secretly to wish that he had paid more attention to his own.
“I hope you’re not shy?” said Miss Tyrell, who found his steadfast gaze somewhat embarrassing.