Salthaven | Page 9

how stupid he is--"
"It doesn't matter, thank you," said Joan. "It--it wasn't very important."
"He doesn't usually forget things," murmured Mr. Vyner. "I wish now," he added, truthfully, "that I had told Mr. Hartley myself."
He held the door open for her, and, still expressing his regret, accompanied her down-stairs to the door. Miss Hartley, somewhat embarrassed, and a prey to suspicions which maidenly modesty forbade her to voice, listened in silence.
"Next time you come," said Mr. Vyner, pausing just outside the door, "I hope--"
Something dropped between them, and fell with a little tinkling crash on to the pavement. Mr. Vyner stooped, and, picking up a pair of clumsily fashioned spectacles, looked swiftly up at the office window.
"Bassett," he said, involuntarily.
He stood looking at the girl, and trying in vain to think of something to say. Miss Hartley, with somewhat more colour than usual, gave him a little bow and hurried off.
CHAPTER V
SMILING despite herself as she thought over the events of the afternoon, Joan Hartley walked thoughtfully homeward. Indignation at Mr. Vyner's presumption was mingled with regret that a young man of undeniably good looks and somewhat engaging manners should stoop to deceit. The fact that people are considered innocent until proved guilty did not concern her. With scarcely any hesitation she summed up against him, the only thing that troubled her being what sentence to inflict, and how to inflict it. She wondered what excuse he could make for such behaviour, and then blushed hotly as she thought of the one he would probably advance. Confused at her own thoughts, she quickened her pace, in happy ignorance of the fact that fifty yards behind her Captain Trimblett and her father, who had witnessed with great surprise her leave-taking of Mr. Vyner, were regulating their pace by hers.
[Illustration: Were regulating their pace by hers 048]
"She's a fine girl," said the captain, after a silence that had endured long enough to be almost embarrassing. "A fine girl, but--"
He broke off, and completed his sentence by a shake of the head.
"She must have come for me," said Hartley, "and he happened to be standing there and told her I had gone."
"No doubt," said the captain, dryly. "That's why she went scurrying off as though she had got a train to catch, and he stood there all that time looking after her. And, besides, every time he sees me, in some odd fashion your name crops up."
"My name?" said the other, in surprise.
"Your name," repeated the captain, firmly, "Same as Joan's, ain't it? The after-part of it, anyway. That's the attraction. Talk all round you--and I talk all round you, too. Nobody'd dream you'd got a daughter to hear the two of us talk--sometimes. Other times, if I bring her name in, they'd think you'd got nothing else."
Mr. Hartley glanced at him uneasily. "Perhaps--" he began.
"There's no 'perhaps' about it," said the masterful captain. "If you're not very careful there'll be trouble. You know what Mr. John is--he's got big ideas, and the youngster is as obstinate as a mule."
"It's all very well," said Hartley, "but how can I be careful? What can I do? Besides, I dare say you are making mountains of mole-heaps; she probably hurried off thinking to catch me up."
Captain Trimblett gave a little dry cough. "Ask her," he said, impressively.
"I'm not going to put any such ideas into her head," said his friend.
"Sound her, then," said the captain. "This is the way I look at it. We all think he is a very nice fellow, don't we?"
"He is," said Hartley, decidedly.
"And we all think she's a splendid girl, don't we?" continued the other.
"Something of the sort," said Hartley, smiling.
"There you are, then," said the captain, triumphantly. "What is more likely than that they should think the same of each other? Besides, I know what he thinks; I can read him like a book."
"You can't read Joan, though," said the other. "Why, she often puzzles me."
"I can try," said the captain. "I haven't known her all these years for nothing. Now, don't tell her we saw her. You leave her to me--and listen."
"Better leave her alone," said Hartley.
The captain, who was deep in thought, waved the suggestion aside. He walked the remainder of the way in silence, and even after they were in the house was so absorbed in his self-appointed task, and so vague in his replies, that Joan, after offering him the proverbial penny for his thoughts, suggested to her father in a loud whisper that he had got something in mind.
"Thinking of the ships he has lost," she said, in a still louder whisper.
The captain smiled and shook his head at her.
"Couldn't lose a ship if I tried," he said, nudging Hartley to call his attention to what was to follow. "I was saying so to Mr.