He cast a swift glance up the road as he did so, and Miss
Drewitt's cheek flamed with sudden wrath as she saw Mr. Edward Tredgold
hastening towards them. In a somewhat pointed manner she called her
uncle's attention to the fact.
"Lor' bless my soul," said that startled mariner, "so it is. Well!
well!"
If Mr. Tredgold had been advancing on his head he could not have
exhibited more surprise.
"I'm afraid I'm late," said Tredgold, as he came up and shook hands. "I
hope you haven't been waiting long."
The hapless captain coughed loud and long. He emerged from a large red
pocket-handkerchief to find the eye of Miss Drewitt seeking his.
"That's all right, my lad," he said, huskily. "I'd forgotten about our
arrangement. Did I say this Sunday or next?"
"This," said Mr. Tredgold, bluntly.
The captain coughed again, and with some pathos referred to the tricks
which old age plays with memory. As they walked on he regaled them with
selected instances.
"Don't forget your leg, uncle," said Miss Drewitt, softly.
Captain Bowers gazed at her suspiciously.
"Don't forget that it's stiff and put too much strain on it," explained
his niece.
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