Mr. Burton performed the ceremony of introduction with some awkwardness; Mr. Stiles was affecting a stateliness of manner which was not without distinction; and Mrs. Dutton, in a black silk dress and the cameo brooch which had belonged to her mother, was no less important. Mr. Burton had an odd feeling of inferiority.
"It's a very small place to ask you to, Admiral Peters," said the widow, offering him a chair.
"It's comfortable, ma'am," said Mr. Stiles, looking round approvingly. "Ah, you should see some of the palaces I've been in abroad; all show and no comfort. Not a decent chair in the place. And, as for the antimacassars——"
"Are you making a long stay, Admiral Peters?" inquired the delighted widow.
"It depends," was the reply. "My intention was just to pay a flying visit to my honest old friend Burton here—best man in my squadron—but he is so hospitable, he's been pressing me to stay for a few weeks."
"But the admiral says he must get back to-morrow morning," interposed Mr. Burton, firmly.
"Unless I have a letter at breakfast-time, Burton," said Mr. Stiles, serenely.
Mr. Burton favoured him with a mutinous scowl.