“There's something more in it than that,” said the other, positively. “I don't like to see this love-your-enemy business with you, Jem; it ain't natural to you. Has your health been all right while I've been away?”
“Of course it has,” said his son, curtly. “If you didn't want Captain Nugent aboard with you why didn't you put him ashore? It wouldn't have delayed you long. Think of the worry and anxiety you've caused poor Mrs. Kingdom.”
“A holiday for her,” growled the captain.
“It has affected her health,” continued his son; “and besides, think of his daughter. She's a high-spirited girl, and all Sunwich is laughing over her father's mishap.”
“Nugent fell into his own trap,” exclaimed the captain, impatiently. “And it won't do that girl of his any harm to be taken down a peg or two. Do her good. Knock some of the nonsense out of her.”
“That's not the way to speak of a lady,” said Jem, hotly.
The offended captain regarded him somewhat sourly; then his face changed, and he got up from his chair and stood before his son with consternation depicted on every feature.
“You don't mean to tell me,” he said, slowly; “you don't mean to tell me that you're thinking anything of Kate Nugent?”
“Why not?” demanded the other, defiantly; “why shouldn't I?”
Captain Hardy, whistling softly, made no reply, but still stood eyeing him.