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The efficient Skinner, however, cited so many instances of longer passages from Manila to San Francisco that Cappy was comforted, although he was not convinced. "You make me a type-written list of all those vessels and their passages, Skinner," he cautioned; "and when you can't think of any more authentic cases fake up a few. Florry's beginning to worry.
"Oh! I can't help it, indeed I can't," sobbed the little mourner, "he is so much like my dear, darling mother;" and she stifled a cry of agony. "Is my father like your mother, cousin Mary?" "Oh yes! When he spoke to me just now, I almost thought it was mother." A tear rolled over Florry's cheek, and she slowly replied, "I wish I knew somebody that looked like my mother."
"Oh, there's nothing very dreadful happening, Kate," replied Mr Meldrum; "only a stowaway in the hold whom the steward took for a ghost, to the serious detriment of the breakfast things which you heard being smashed; so, pray go back to your cabin, my dear, and soothe `poor Florry's' alarms.
Florry's cut head was easier, too, and by Mr Meldrum's directions she and Kate turned in comparatively early.
Once before he had heard it when he courted Florry's dead mother; and his old heart swelled a little with pain at the remembrance. He was wondering just what to do about that laugh when Matt was announced. "Show him in," said Cappy; and Matt Peasley entered. "Sit down, Matt," said Cappy kindly. "Yes, I sent for you. The Gualala will be in to-morrow and you've had a fine two-weeks' vacation.
"Well, there is a little resemblance, certainly," said Mr Meldrum, joining in Florry's laughter at the remark. "I don't suppose, though, my dear, we'll ever see poor Mr Trotter or Allington again." "Dear old Allington!" murmured Kate with a sigh; and, in a moment, her memory flew back to the past, with all its sad associations.
I'll bet a dollar Florry steered that sailor into a tea fight somewhere, and if she did that, Matt, you're a tip-top risk and I'll underwrite you." That same evening Cappy sneaked into his daughter's apartments and found a photograph of Matt Peasley in a hammered silver frame on Florry's dressing table. "Holy sailor!" he chuckled.
Some might think me deviating from the delicacy of my sex; but, under the circumstances, I feel that I am not. I have loved you long, and to know that my love is returned, is a source of deep and unutterable joy to me. You were indeed wrong to suppose I ever regarded Mr. Stewart otherwise than as Florry's future husband. I have never loved but one."
"He might have taken Florry's watch, she was so careless as to leave on the table in the sitting-room," added she. "But he did not." "He could not have been disturbed until you spoke to him; and he might have ransacked the whole of the lower part of the house." "But he did not."
I guess there's room enough in this house for three." At nine o'clock Cappy Ricks, with a lilt in his heart, drove down to his office behind his team of high-stepping bays. At the corner of California and Drumm Streets he saw Matt Peasley and hailed him. The latter came to the carriage door and looked in. "It's all right, Matt," Cappy said with a cunning wink. "I've fixed Florry's clock for her.
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