"No more can I, unless you suggested 'em," Dinah retorted.

"You were willing enough to come, when--when--"

"When you proposed it," Dinah relentlessly concluded the sentence.

"Of course. Why not?"

"And you were excited enough--you can't deny it"--her mistress insisted, "when you brought the news this morning, that his ship had arrived.

But now, and only because you happen to be put out--"

"Who said I was put out?"

"As if I couldn't tell by your tone! Now, just because you happen to be put out, I'm indelicate all of a sudden."

"I never said so," Dinah protested sullenly.

"_Said_ so?" Mrs Bosenna, rising, faced her with withering scorn.

"I hope you've a better sense of your position than to _say_ such a thing. Oh, you content yourself with hinting! . . . But who owns this house and garden, I should like to know?"

Dinah, though remorseful, showed fight yet. "Then why couldn' ye take the bull by the horns an' march in by the front door?"

"Why? Because you agreed with me that to plant a two or three roses for him would be a nice attention! . . . You can't start planting roses in the dusk, at the end of an afternoon call; and, as it is, we've only just finished before twilight."

Dinah was minded to retort that, as it was, the planting had taken a long time. But she contented herself with glancing again at the house and saying evasively that the new tenant appeared to take more interest in fixtures than in flowers.

"I own," sighed Mrs Bosenna, "I thought he'd have been eager to take stock of the garden before it grew dark. Such a beautiful garden, as it is, in a small way!"

"When a man has pa.s.sed his whole life at sea--"

"True," her mistress agreed. "Yet how it must enlarge the mind!

So different from farming!"

"It must be ekally dependent on the weather," Dinah opined. "At least.

More so, takin' one thing with another. Oh, decidedly. It stands to reason."

"I'm romantic perhaps," confessed Mrs Bosenna; "but I can never think of any ship's captain as being quite an ordinary man. The dangers he must go through--and the foreign countries he visits--and up night after night in all weathers, staring into the darkness in an oilskin suit!"

"'Tisn' the sort o' man I should ever choose for a husband, if I wanted one," maintained Dinah.

"Who was talking of husbands, you silly woman?"

"I don't see how else the men-folk consarn us, mistress."

"You're coa.r.s.e, Dinah."

"I'm practical, anyway. If they choose to toss up an' down 'pon the sea they're welcome, for me. But, for my part, when I lay me down at night, I like to be sure o' gettin' up in the same position next mornin'; and I'd to feel the same about a husband, supposin' I cared for the man."

"I often think," mused Mrs Bosenna, "that we're not half grateful enough to sailors, considering the risks they run and the things they bring us home: tea and coffee, raisins, currants, with all kinds of spices and cordial drinks."

"Oranges an' lemons, say the bells o' St Clemen's. Oranges--"

"I wasn't thinking of this Captain Hocken in particular," interrupted the widow hastily. "Take a Christmas pudding, for instance. Flour and suet, and there's an end if you depend on the farmer; just an ordinary dumpling. Whereas the sailor brings the figs, the currants, the candied peel, the chopped almonds, the brandy--all the ingredients that make it Christma.s.sy."

"And then the farmer takes an' eats it. Aw, believe me, mistress, Stay-at-home fares best in this world!"

"I don't know, Dinah," sighed Mrs Bosenna. "Haven't you ever in your life wished for a pair o' wings?"

"To wear in my hat? Why, o' course I have."

"No, no; I mean, for the wings of a dove, to fly away and be--well, not at rest exactly--"

"No, I haven't, mistress. But 'tis the way with you discontented rich folks. Like Hocken's ducks, all of 'ee--never happy unless you be where you baint. . . . I wonder if that Hocken was any relation--S-sh! now!

Talk of the devil!"

Captain Cai and Fancy had spent a good hour-and-a-half in overhauling the two cottages. Their accommodation was narrow enough, but Captain Cai, after half a lifetime on shipboard, found them little short of palatial. The child could scarcely drag him away from the tiny bath-rooms with their hot and cold water taps.

"Lord," said he, gazing down into the newly painted bath in No.1.

"To think of 'Bias in the likes o' this!"

"You may, if you care to," said Fancy.

"'Tis a knack of mine," he apologised. "We'll suppose him safely out of it, an' what happens next? Why, he'll step across to the linen-cupboard here, wi' the hot pipes behind it, an' there's a clean shirt dried an'

warmed to his skin. He gets into that--the day bein' Sunday, as we'll suppose--an' finishes his dressin', danderin' forth an' back from one room to t'other; breakfast gettin' ready downstairs an' no hurry for it--all his time his own, clean away to sundown. Up above the lower window-sash here with the Prodigal Son in stained gla.s.s, and very thoughtful of the architect, too--"

"It isn't stained gla.s.s," the child corrected; "it's what they call a transparency."

"I hope you're mistaken. . . . I must try it from the outside before I let 'Bias undress here. As I was sayin', through the upper pane he'll see his cabbages comin' on at the back; an' in the front, under his window, there's the bread-cart--"

"But you said 'twas Sunday."

"So I did. . . . Well, there's the milk-cart anyway, an' a boy janglin'

the cans. You can't think how pretty these sh.o.r.e-noises be to a sailor-man. An' down in the town the church bell goin' for early Communion, but he'll attend mornin' service later on. An', across the road, there's the garden, full o' flowers, an' smellin'--an' a blessed sense as he can pick an' choose an' take his time with it all."

Captain Cai had wandered to the front window. He let fall these last words slowly, in a kind of reverie, as he gazed out on the garden over which the twilight was fast gathering.

"With all this time on your hands, I reckon you won't be takin' a look round the garden?" hazarded Fancy.

"Certainly. Why not?"

"Well, 'tis drawin' in dusk. But there! I wouldn' disappoint Mrs Bosenna, if I was you."

"Eh?"

"She's been down in the garden this hour and more, waitin' for you to take her by surprise."

"Oh--come now, I say!"

Fancy nodded her head. "I don't know as I blame her," she said judicially. "She's curious to know what you look like, that's all; or else she's curious for you to know what she looks like. Anyway, she's down there, if you've a mind to be polite."

Seeing that he hesitated, the child led the way. Captain Cai followed her in something of a tremor. Across the road they went and through the garden-gate; and the sound of their footsteps on the flagged pathway gave Mrs Bosenna warning. By the time they reached the second terrace she was down on her knees again, packing the soil about the rose-bush, which Dinah obediently held upright for her.