"No--he was on his round, and we took it for granted. Besides, we know they were posted in time."

"William Skin takes the letters some days," suggested Dinah, "if he happens to overtake the post on his way back with the cart. It saves the man a climb up the hill."

"I wonder--" mused Mrs Bosenna.

"Where is he?" Cai's bewildered brain darted at the impossible stratagem of intercepting Skin and getting the letters from him.

"Stabling the pony at this moment, I expect. . . . But I don't understand. What letters are you talkin' about? What _sort_ of letters?"

"There--there was one from me and one from 'Bias--"

"Goodness!" she broke in, smiling pleasantly, "What, another invitation?"

"Well--" began Cai.

"Yes," struck in 'Bias.

"You might call it an invitation, o' sorts," Cai conceded.

"'_Course_ you might," said 'Bias positively.

"You are very mysterious this morning, you two." The widow turned from one to another, her smile still hiding her amus.e.m.e.nt. "But let me guess. It appears you both wished to send me an invitation, and something has gone amiss with your letters."

"We both sent the same one," explained Cai, and blushed. "That's the long and short of it, ma'am."

"It doesn't seem so very dreadful." Mrs Bosenna's smile was sweetly rea.s.suring. "You _both_ wrote, when it was only necessary for one to write?"

"That's what I kept tellin' him, ma'am," put in 'Bias stoutly. "But he would put his oar in."

"Well, well. . . You both wished to give me pleasure, and each wrote without the other's knowledge--"

"No, we didn't," interrupted 'Bias again.

"Anyway," she harked back with a patient little sigh, "you had both planned your invitation to give me pleasure; and since it was the same--?" She paused on a note of interrogation.

"You might call it the same, ma'am--after a fashion," a.s.sented Cai.

She laughed. "Do you know," she said, "I forgot for a moment what friends you are; and it _did_ cross my mind that maybe there were two invitations, and they clashed."

"But they do, ma'am!" groaned Cai.

"Eh? Yet you said just now. . . . So there _are_ two, after all!"

"It's--it's this way, ma'am: the letters are the same, but the invitation as you call it--" Here Cai paused and cast an irritable glance in the direction of Dinah, who had stepped to the door of the oven to conceal her mirth. If the woman would but go he might be able to explain. "But the invitation don't apply similarly, not in both cases."

"That's queer, isn't it?" commented Mrs Bosenna. "And, supposin' I accept, to which of you must I write?"

"Me," said 'Bias with great prompt.i.tude.

"Not at all." Cai turned in wrath on his friend.

"I do think you might help, instead of standin' there and--"

"Can't I accept both?" suggested Mrs Bosenna sweetly.

"No, you certainly can't, ma'am. . . . And since the letters seemin'ly haven't reached you yet, we'd both of us take it as a favour if you'd hand 'em back to us without lookin' inside 'em. We--we want to try again, and send something calkilated to please you better. 'Tis a queer request, I'll grant you."

"It is," she agreed, cutting him short. "But what's the matter with the letters? Did you put any bad language into them by any chance?"

"Ma'am!" exclaimed Cai.

"Bad language?" protested 'Bias. "Why, to begin with, ma'am, I never use it. The language is too good, in a way, an' that's our trouble; only Cai, here, won't out with it, but keeps beatin' about the bush.

You see, we went to Mr Benny for it."

"You went to Mr Benny?" she echoed as he hesitated. "For what, pray?"

"For the letters, ma'am. Unbeknowns to one another we went to Mr Benny--Mr _Peter_ Benny--he havin' a gift with his pen--"

'Bias hesitated again, faltered, and came to a stop, aware that Mrs Bosenna's smile had changed to a frown; that she was regarding him with disapproval in her eyes, and that a red spot had declared itself suddenly upon either cheek.

"_You_ don't seem to be makin' _very_ good weather of it either," Cai taunted him; and with that, glancing at her for confirmation, he too noticed her changed expression and was dumb.

"Are you tellin' me,"--she seated herself stiffly, and they stood like culprits before her. "Are you tellin' me this is a game?"

"A--a what, ma'am?"

"A game!" She stamped her foot. "You've been makin' the town's mock o'

me with Peter Benny's help--is that what you two funny seamen have walked up here to confess?"

"There was no names given, ma'am," stammered Cai. "I do a.s.sure you--"

"No names given!" Mrs Bosenna in a temper was terribly handsome.

Her indignation so overawed the pair, as to rob them of all presence of mind for the moment. After all, where lay the harm in asking Mr Benny to word a simple invitation? Since the letters had not reached her, she could suspect no worse; and why, then, all this fuss? So they might have reasoned it out, had not conscience held them cowards--conscience and a creeping cold shade of mutual distrust. "No names given!"

repeated the lady. "And I'm to believe that, just as I'm to believe, sir,"--she addressed herself stiffly to 'Bias--"that you never used bad language in your life!"

"I didn' say that, ma'am--not exactly," urged the bewildered 'Bias.

"I dunno what's this about bad language. Who's been usin' bad language? Not me."

"Not since your prize-fightin' days, perhaps, Captain Hunken."

"My prize-fightin' days? My pr--Whoever told you, ma'am, as ever I had any, or behaved so?"

"You had better ask your friend here."

"Hey?"

"Perhaps," said Mrs Bosenna sarcastically, "that goes back beyond your memory! Your parrot, if I may say so, has a better one."

"Missus!" expostulated Dinah modestly, while "Oh good Lord!" muttered Cai with a start. His friend's eye was on him, too, fixed and suspicious.