"You just keep quiet," said Selina, irritably; "I've not gone quite off my head yet. And don't hum!"
Mr. Vickers lapsed into offended silence, and, arrived at Mr. Stobell's, followed his daughter into the hall in so stately a fashion that the maid—lately of Mint Street—implored him not to eat her. Miss Vickers replied for him, and the altercation that ensued was only quelled by the appearance of Mr. Stobell at the dining-room door.
"Halloa! What do you want?" he inquired, staring at the intruders.
"I've come for my share," said Miss Vickers, eyeing him fiercely.
"Share?" repeated Mr. Stobell. "Share? Why, we've been shipwrecked. Haven't you heard?"
"Perhaps you came to my house when I wasn't at home," retorted Miss Vickers, in a trembling but sarcastic voice. "I want to hear about it. That's what I've come for."
She walked to the dining-room and, as Mr. Stobell still stood in the doorway, pushed past him, followed by her father. Mr. Stobell, after a short deliberation, returned to his seat at the breakfast-table, and in an angry and disjointed fashion narrated the fate of the Fair Emily and their subsequent adventures. Miss Vickers heard him to an end in silence.
"What time was it when the ship struck on the rock?" she inquired.