At Sunwich Port, Complete

Captain Nugent proceeded with his meal in silence. His hatred of Hardy had not been lessened by the success which had attended that gentleman’s career, and was not likely to be improved by the well-being of Hardy junior. He passed his cup for some more tea, and, with a furtive glance at the photograph on the mantelpiece, wondered what had happened to his own son.

“I don’t suppose I should know him if I saw him,” continued Mrs. Kingdom, addressing a respectable old arm-chair; “London is sure to have changed him.”

“Is this water-cress?” inquired the captain, looking up from his plate.

“Yes. Why?” said Mrs. Kingdom.

“I only wanted information,” said her brother, as he deposited the salad in question in the slop-basin.

Mrs. Kingdom, with a resigned expression, tried to catch her niece’s eye and caught the captain’s instead. Miss Nugent happening to glance up saw her fascinated by the basilisk glare of the master of the house.

“Some more tea, please,” she said.

Her aunt took her cup, and in gratitude for the diversion picked out the largest lumps of sugar in the basin.

“London changes so many people,” mused the persevering lady, stirring her tea. “I’ve noticed it before. Why it is I can’t say, but the fact remains. It seems to improve them altogether. I dare say that young Hardy—”

“Will you understand that I won’t have the Hardys mentiond in my house?” said the captain, looking up. “I’m not interested in their business, and I will not have it discussed here.”

“As you please, John,” said his sister, drawing herself up. “It’s your house and you are master here. I’m sure I don’t want to discuss them. Nothing was farther from my thoughts. You understand what your father says, Kate?”

“Perfectly,” said Miss Nugent. “When the desire to talk about the Hardys becomes irresistible we must go for a walk.”

The captain turned in his chair and regarded his daughter steadily. She met his gaze with calm affection.

“I wish you were a boy,” he growled.

“You’re the only man in Sunwich who wishes that,” said Miss Nugent, complacently, “and I don’t believe you mean it. If you’ll come a little closer I’ll put my head on your shoulder and convert you.”

“Kate!” said Mrs. Kingdom, reprovingly.

“And, talking about heads,” said Miss Nugent, briskly, “reminds me that I want a new hat. You needn’t look like that; good-looking daughters always come expensive.”

She moved her chair a couple of inches in his direction and smiled alluringly. The captain shifted uneasily; prudence counselled flight, but dignity forbade it. He stared hard at Mrs. Kingdom, and a smile of rare appreciation on that lady’s face endeavoured to fade slowly and naturally into another expression. The chair came nearer.

“Don’t be foolish,” said the captain, gruffly.

The chair came still nearer until at last it touched his, and then Miss Nugent, with a sigh of exaggerated content, allowed her head to sink gracefully on his shoulder.

“Most comfortable shoulder in Sunwich,” she murmured; “come and try the other, aunt, and perhaps you’ll get a new bonnet.”

Mrs. Kingdom hastened to reassure her brother. She would almost as soon have thought of putting her head on the block. At the same time it was quite evident that she was taking a mild joy in his discomfiture and eagerly awaiting further developments.

“When you are tired of this childish behaviour, miss,” said the captain, stiffly–

There was a pause. “Kate!” said Mrs. Kingdom, in tones of mild reproof, “how can you?”

“Very good,” said the captain, we’ll see who gets tired of it first. “I’m in no hurry.”

A delicate but unmistakable snore rose from his shoulder in reply.

CHAPTER VI

For the first few days after his return Sunwich was full of surprises to Jem Hardy. The town itself had changed but little, and the older inhabitants were for the most part easily recognisable, but time had wrought wonders among the younger members of the population: small boys had attained to whiskered manhood, and small girls passing into well-grown young women had in some cases even changed their names.

The most astounding and gratifying instance of the wonders effected by time was that of Miss Nugent. He saw her first at the window, and with a ready recognition of the enchantment lent by distance took the first possible opportunity of a closer observation. He then realized the enchantment afforded by proximity. The second opportunity led him impetuously into a draper’s shop, where a magnificent shop-walker, after first ceremoniously handing him a high cane chair, passed on his order for pins in a deep and thrilling baritone, and retired in good order.

By the end of a week his observations were completed, and Kate Nugent, securely enthroned in his mind as the incarnation of feminine grace and beauty, left but little room for other matters. On his second Sunday at home, to his father’s great surprise, he attended church, and after contemplating Miss Nugent’s back hair for an hour and a half came home and spoke eloquently and nobly on “burying hatchets,” “healing old sores,” “letting bygones be bygones,” and kindred topics.

“I never take much notice of sermons myself,” said the captain, misunderstanding.

“Sermon?” said his son. “I wasn’t thinking of the sermon, but I saw Captain Nugent there, and I remembered the stupid quarrel between you. It’s absurd that it should go on indefinitely.”

“Why, what does it matter?” inquired the other, staring. “Why shouldn’t it? Perhaps it’s the music that’s affected you; some of those old hymns—”

“It wasn’t the sermon and it wasn’t the hymns,” said his son, disdainfully; “it’s just common sense. It seems to me that the enmity between you has lasted long enough.”

“I don’t see that it matters,” said the captain; “it doesn’t hurt me. Nugent goes his way and I go mine, but if I ever get a chance at the old man, he’d better look out. He wants a little of the starch taken out of him.”

“Mere mannerism,” said his son.

“He’s as proud as Lucifer, and his girl takes after him,” said the innocent captain. “By the way, she’s grown up a very good-looking girl. You take a look at her the next time you see her.”

His son stared at him.

“She’ll get married soon, I should think,” continued the other. “Young Murchison, the new doctor here, seems to be the favourite. Nugent is backing him, so they say; I wish him joy of his father-in-law.”

Jem Hardy took his pipe into the garden, and, pacing slowly up and down the narrow paths, determined, at any costs, to save Dr. Murchison from such a father-in-law and Kate Nugent from any husband except of his choosing. He took a seat under an old apple tree, and, musing in the twilight, tried in vain to think of ways and means of making her acquaintance.

Meantime they passed each other as strangers, and the difficulty of approaching her only made the task more alluring. In the second week he reckoned up that he had seen her nine times. It was a satisfactory total, but at the same time he could not shut his eyes to the fact that five times out of that number he had seen Dr. Murchison as well, and neither of them appeared to have seen him.

He sat thinking it over in the office one hot afternoon. Mr. Adolphus Swann, his partner, had just returned from lunch, and for about the fifth time that day was arranging his white hair and short, neatly pointed beard in a small looking-glass. Over the top of it he glanced at Hardy, who, leaning back in his chair, bit his pen and stared hard at a paper before him.

“Is that the manifest of the North Star?” he inquired.

“No,” was the reply.

Mr. Swann put his looking-glass away and watched the other as he crossed over to the window and gazed through the small, dirty panes at the bustling life of the harbour below. For a short time Hardy stood gazing in silence, and then, suddenly crossing the room, took his hat from a peg and went out.

“Restless,” said the senior partner, wiping his folders with great care and putting them on. “Wonder where he’s put that manifest.”

He went over to the other’s desk and opened a drawer to search for it. Just inside was a sheet of foolscap, and Mr. Swann with growing astonishment slowly mastered the contents.

“See her as often as possible.”

“Get to know some of her friends.”

“Try and get hold of the old lady.”