gy to come out here. I am very glad I met you."

"But what in the name of common sense," exclaimed the captain, "did you
come to see me for? What difference does it make to you whether Mr.
Lancaster is here or not? What have you got to do with me and my
affairs, anyway?"

She smiled a smile which was very quiet and flat. "Now, don't get
angry," she said. "We can talk over things in a friendly way just as
well as not, and it will be a great deal better to do it. And I'd rather
talk here in the public road than anywhere else; it's more private."

"I don't want a word to say to you," said the captain, preparing to move
on. "I have nothing at all to do with you."

"Ah," said Miss Port, with another smile, "but I think you have. You've
got to marry me, you know."

Then the captain stopped suddenly. He opened his mouth, but he could
find no immediate words.

"Yes, indeed," said Miss Port, now speaking quietly; "and when I saw Mr.
Lancaster had come to town, I knew that I must see you at once. Of
course, he has come to take away your niece, and that's the best thing
to be done, for she wouldn't want to keep on livin' here where so many
people have known her. At first I thought that would be a very good
thing, for you would be separated from her, and that's what you need and
deserve. Young men are young men, and they are often a good deal kinder
than they would be if they stopped to think. But a person of mature age
is different. He would know what is due to himself and his standing in
society. At least, that is what I did think. But it suddenly flashed on
me that they might want to get away as quick as they could--which would
be proper, dear knows--and it would be just like you to go with them.
And so I came right out."

The captain had listened to all this because he very much wanted to know
what she had to say, but now he exclaimed: "Do you suppose I shall pay
any attention to all the gossip about my affairs?"

"Now, don't go on like that," said Miss Port; "it doesn't do any good,
and if you'll only keep quiet, and think pleasantly about it, there will
be no trouble at all. You know you've got to marry me; that's settled.
Everybody knows about it, and has known about it for years. I didn't
press the matter while father was alive because I knew it would worry
him. But now I'm going to do it. Not in any anger or bad feelin', but
gently, and as firmly as if I was that tree. I don't want to go to any
law, but if I have