Before the dismayed captain could think of any dignified pretext to stay him he was out of the room.  The doctor followed and the perturbed captain, left alone, stared blankly at the door and thought of his daughter’s words concerning the thin end of the wedge.

He was a proud man and loth to show discomfiture, so that it was not until a quarter of an hour later that he followed his guests to the garden.  The four people were in couples, the paths favouring that formation, although the doctor, to the detriment of the border, had made two or three determined attempts to march in fours.  With a feeling akin to scorn the captain saw that he was walking with Mrs. Kingdom, while some distance in the rear Jem Hardy followed with Kate.

He stood at the back door for a little while watching; Hardy, upright and elate, was listening with profound attention to Miss Nugent; the doctor, sauntering along beside Mrs. Kingdom, was listening with a languid air to an account of her celebrated escape from measles some forty-three years before.  As a professional man he would have died rather than have owed his life to the specific she advocated.

Kate Nugent, catching sight of her father, turned, and as he came slowly towards them, linked her arm, in his.  Her face was slightly flushed and her eyes sparkled.

“I was just coming in to fetch you,” she observed; “it is so pleasant out here now.”

“Delightful,” said Hardy.

“We had to drop behind a little,” said Miss Nugent, raising her voice.  “Aunt and Dr. Murchison will talk about their complaints to each other!  They have been exchanging prescriptions.”

The captain grunted and eyed her keenly.

“I want you to come in and give us a little music,” he said, shortly.

Kate nodded.  “What is your favourite music, Mr. Hardy?” she inquired, with a smile.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Hardy can’t stay,” said the captain, in a voice which there was no mistaking.

Hardy pulled out his watch.  “No; I must be off,” he said, with a well-affected start.  “Thank you for reminding me, Captain Nugent.”

“I am glad to have been of service,” said the other, looking his grimmest.

He acknowledged the young man’s farewell with a short nod and, forgetting his sudden desire for music, continued to pace up and down with his daughter.

“What have you been saying to that—­that fellow?” he demanded, turning to her, suddenly.

Miss Nugent reflected.  “I said it was a fine evening,” she replied, at last.

“No doubt,” said her father.  “What else?”

“I think I asked him whether he was fond of gardening,” said Miss Nugent, slowly.  “Yes, I’m sure I did.”

“You had no business to speak to him at all,” said the fuming captain.

“I don’t quite see how I could help doing so,” said his daughter.  “You surely don’t expect me to be rude to your visitors?  Besides, I feel rather sorry for him.”