“Joseph’s all right,” replied the other, “so is the parrot.”

Mr. Chalk started and said that he was glad to hear it, and sat trying to think of a safe subject for conversation.

“Joseph’s a nice parrot,” he said at last.  “The parrot’s a nice lad, I mean.”

“Thomas!” said Mrs. Chalk.

“Joseph-is-a-nice-lad,” said Mr. Chalk, recovering himself.  “I have often thought——­”

The sentence was never completed, being interrupted by a thundering rat-tat-tat at the front door, followed by a pealing at the bell, which indicated that the visitor was manfully following the printed injunction to “Ring also.”  The door was opened and a man’s voice was heard in the hall-a loud, confident voice, at the sound of which Mr. Chalk, with one horrified glance in the direction of Captain Bowers, sank back in his chair and held his breath.

“Captain Brisket,” said the maid, opening the door.

The captain came in with a light, bustling step, and, having shaken Mr. Chalk’s hand with great fervour and acknowledged the presence of Captain Bowers and Mrs. Chalk by two spasmodic jerks of the head, sat bolt-upright on the edge of a chair and beamed brightly upon the horrified Chalk.

“I’ve got news,” he said, hoarsely.

“News?” said the unfortunate Mr. Chalk, faintly.

“Ah!” said Brisket, nodding.  “News!  I’ve got her at last.”

Mrs. Chalk started.

“I’ve got her,” continued Captain Brisket, with an air of great enjoyment; “and a fine job I had of it, I can tell you.  Old Todd said he couldn’t bear parting with her.  Once or twice I thought he meant it.”

Mr. Chalk made a desperate effort to catch his eye, but in vain.  It was fixed in reminiscent joy on the ceiling.

“We haggled about her for days,” continued Brisket; “but at last I won.  The Fair Emily is yours, sir.”

“The fair who?” cried Mrs. Chalk, in a terrible voice.  “Emily who?  Emily what?”

Captain Brisket turned and regarded her in amazement.

“Emily who?” repeated Mrs. Chalk.

“Why, it’s—­” began Brisket.

“H’sh!” said Mr. Chalk, desperately.  “It’s a secret.”

“It’s a secret,” said Captain Brisket, nodding calmly at Mrs. Chalk.

Wrath and astonishment held her for the moment breathless.  Mr. Chalk, caught between his wife and Captain Bowers, fortified himself with memories of the early martyrs and gave another warning glance at Brisket.  For nearly two minutes that undaunted mariner met the gaze of Mrs. Chalk without flinching.

“A—­a secret?” gasped the indignant woman at last, as she turned to her husband.  “You sit there and dare to tell me that?”

“It isn’t my secret,” said Mr. Chalk, “else I should tell you at once.”

“It isn’t his secret,” said the complaisant Brisket.

Mrs. Chalk controlled herself by a great effort and, turning to Captain Brisket, addressed him almost calmly.  “Was it Emily that came whistling over the garden-wall the other night?” she inquired.