The one drop of sweetness in his cup was the news that Mrs. Chinnery was away from home for a few days, and after carefully reconnoitring from the bridge of the Indian Chief that evening he set off to visit his lodgings. He reached Tranquil Vale unmolested, and, entering the house with a rather exaggerated air of unconcern, nodded to Mr. Truefitt, who was standing on the hearthrug smoking, and hung up his cap. Mr. Truefitt, after a short pause, shook hands with him.
"She's away," he said, in a deep voice.
"She? Who?" faltered the captain.
"Susanna," replied Mr. Truefitt, in a deeper voice still.
The captain coughed and, selecting a chair with great care, slowly seated himself.
"She left you her best wishes," continued Mr. Truefitt, still standing, and still regarding him with an air of severe disapproval.
"Much obliged," murmured the captain.
"She would do it," added Mr. Truefitt, crossing to the window and staring out at the road with his back to the captain. "And she said something about a silver-plated butter-dish; but in the circumstances I said 'No.' Miss Willett thought so too."
"How is Miss Willett?" inquired the captain, anxious to change the subject.
"All things considered, she's better than might be expected," replied Mr. Truefitt, darkly.