"Yes? Oh, all right, Mater."

"That are careless enough to get in the way of them," finished the captain, with surprising presence of mind. "Still, if Caroline wants to go--"

"I have it!" exclaimed Mrs. Dunn. "The young people shall go, and the others remain at home. Malcolm shall take you for a spin, Caroline, and Captain Warren and I will stay here and wait until you return. We'll have a family chat, Captain, won't we? Because," with a gay laugh, "in a way we _are_ like one family, you see."

And, somewhat to Miss Warren's surprise, her uncle agreed to this proposition. He did not answer immediately, but, when he did, it was with heartiness.

"Why, yes," he said, "that's a good idea. That's fust-rate. You young folks go, and Mrs. Dunn and I'll wait here till you come back. That's the way of the world--young folks on the go, and the old folks at home by the fire, hey, Mrs. Dunn?"

The lady addressed did not relish being numbered with "old folks," but she smiled sweetly, and said she supposed it was. Malcolm telephoned to the garage and to Edwards at the Warren apartment, ordering the butler to deliver his mistress's auto cap and cloak to the chauffeur, who would call for them. A few minutes later the yellow car rolled up to the door.

In the hall Mrs. Dunn whispered a rea.s.suring word to her departing guest.

"Now enjoy yourself, dear," she whispered. "Have a nice ride and don't worry about me. If he--if our enc.u.mbrance bores me too much I shall--well, I shall plead a headache and leave him to his own devices.

Besides, he isn't so _very_ dreadful, is he?"

Caroline shook her head. "No," she answered, "he is a good man. I understand him better than I did and--yes, I like him better, too."

"Oh!... Indeed! Well, good-by, dear. Good-by."

The yellow car roared as the chauffeur cranked it, then moved off up the crowded avenue. Mrs. Dunn watched it until it was out of sight.

Her brows were drawn together, and she seemed puzzled and just a bit disconcerted. However, when she returned to the drawing-room, her gracious smile had returned, and her bland condescension was again in evidence.

Captain Elisha had been standing by the window. She begged him to be seated. He thanked her, but looked dubiously at the Louis XVI chair indicated. She noticed the look.

"Suppose we go into the library," she said. "It is much less formal. And there is a fire--for us _old_ folks," with a slight accent on the word.

The library was more homelike. Not as many books as at the Warrens', but a great deal of gilt in the bindings and much carving on the cases. The fire was cheery, and the pair sat down before it in big easy chairs.

Mrs. Dunn looked intently at the glowing coals.

Captain Elisha cleared his throat. Mrs. Dunn leaned forward expectantly.

The captain coughed and sank back in his chair.

"Yes?" purred the lady. "You were about to say?"

"Me? Oh, no, I didn't say anything."

Another period of silence. Mrs. Dunn's foot tapped the rug impatiently.

She wished him to begin the conversation, and he would not. At length, in desperation, she began it herself.

"I suppose you find New York rather different from--er--North--er--"

"From South Denboro? Yes, ma'am."

"Do you like the city life?"

"Well, I don't know, ma'am."

"Not as well as you do that of the country, doubtless."

"Well, you see, I ain't had so much of it."

"No, of course not. It does so depend upon what one is accustomed to.

Now I fancy I should be perfectly desperate in your village."

One corner of Captain Elisha's mouth curled upward.

"I shouldn't be surprised," he admitted.

"Desperately lonely, I mean."

"Yes'm. I judged that was what you meant. Still, folks can be lonesome in New York."

"Perhaps. But really I don't see how. With all the whirl and the crowds and the glorious excitement. The feeling that one is at the very heart, the center of everything!"

"Yes. If you belong to the machinery, I s'pose it's all right. But if you've been leanin' over the rail, lookin' on, and get pushed in unexpected, maybe you don't care so much about bein' nigh the center."

"Then why stay there? Why not get out?"

"If you're caught in the wheels, gettin' out's somethin' of a job."

"But, as I understand it, Captain Warren--I may be misinformed, for, of course, I haven't been unduly curious concerning your family affairs--as _I_ understand it, you were not obliged to remain among the--among the wheels, as you call them. You could have gotten out quite easily, couldn't you?"

"I presume likely I could. But, you see, ma'am, I had a feelin' that I'd ought to stay."

Mrs. Dunn laughed lightly. "Ah me!" she exclaimed; "you felt it your duty, I suppose. Oh, you New England Puritans!"

She shook her head in playful mockery. Then she added, "But, at all events, it cannot be so very disagreeable--now. I have no doubt it was--well, not comfortable for you at first. Steve and Caroline were quite impossible--really quite furious. Your sudden appearance in the capacity of guardian was too much for them. They were sure you must be a perfect ogre, Captain. I had to use all my eloquence to convince them they would not be devoured alive. But now--what a change! Why, already Caroline accepts you as--well, almost like an old friend, like myself.

In the last few days this change in her att.i.tude is quite marked. What _have_ you done? Are you a wizard? Do tell me!"

This appeal, delivered with eloquence and most engaging play of brow and eye, should have been irresistible. Unfortunately the captain did not appear to have heard it. Leaning forward, his hands clasped between his knees, he was gazing into the fire. And when he spoke, it was as if he were thinking aloud.

"I s'pose 'tis a sort of disease, this duty business," he mused. "And most diseases ain't cheerful visitations. Still a feller ought not to growl about it in public. I always did hate for a man to be goin' about forever complainin' of his sufferin's--whether they was from duty or rheumatiz."

Mrs. Dunn's lips snapped shut. She pressed them together impatiently.

Evidently her questions, and their diplomatic prelude, had been unheard and wasted. However, she did not intend to be sidetracked or discouraged.

"One should not prate of one's duty, of course," she agreed. "Not that you do--far from it. But, as I was saying, our dear Caroline has--"

"Thank you, ma'am. I hope I don't groan too loud. Do you know, I believe climate has a bearin' on duty, same as it has on rheumatics. I s'pose you city folks"--and there was almost contempt in the words--"are sort of Christian Science, and figger it's an 'error'--hey? Somethin' to be forgot."

The lady resented the interruption, and the contempt nettled her.

"Not at all!" she retorted. "We city dwellers have our duties, also."

"Is that a fact? I want to know!"

"Certainly it is a fact," tartly. "I have my duties and many of them."