"
She suited the action to the word, and beat up one in the Captain's
teacup while Plinny carved him a slice of ham.
"Ladies," he protested, "I am ashamed. I do not deserve this
hospitality. If you would allow me first to tell my story!"
"_You're_ all right," said Miss Belcher. "Couldn't hurt a fly, if
you wanted to. There! Eat up your breakfast, and then you can tell
us all about it."
The two ladies had, each in her way, a knack of making her meaning
clear without subservience to the strict forms of speech.
"It will be a weight off one's mind," declared Plinny, "even if it
should prove to be the last straw."
"There's one thing to be thankful for," chimed in Miss Belcher,
"and that is, Jack Rogers has gone to St. Mawes. When there's
serious business to be discussed I always thank a Providence that
clears the men out of the way."
I glanced at Captain Branscome. Assuredly he had come with no
intention at all of unbosoming himself before a couple of ladies.
He desired--desired desperately, I felt sure--to confide in me alone.
But Miss Belcher's off-handish air of authority completely nonplussed
him; he sat helplessly fidgeting with his breakfast-plate.
"To tell you the truth, ladies," he began, "I had not expected this--
this audience.
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