When they were alone, Miss Acton exclaimed: "I hope I may be forgiven if I do him a wrong, and I love his old father, who is the soul of honour and a fine example of a true gentleman of the sea, but I cannot help thinking, brother, that Mr Lawrence has had a hand in our Lucy's disappearance."
And the worthy old lady's eyes grew dim as she pronounced the words "our Lucy."
Captain Acton started from a reverie and looked at her attentively.
"You want to imply," he cried, "that there was an understanding between Mr Lawrence and my daughter?"
"I cannot imagine why the steward of the ship came to be employed, as Mr Adams tells us—an assertion you justify by saying that you saw this man in the cabin of the vessel—unless Mr Lawrence sent the letter."
Captain Acton expanded his chest, and a look of haughtiness entered his face.
"Sister, is your opinion of Lucy such that you imagine she can have anything to do with Mr Lawrence unknown to me?"
But a quality of stubbornness was one of Miss Acton's characteristics.
"He offered her marriage, brother."
"Yes. And she rejected him with the peremptoriness which I should have expected in her."