"Why, for a wonder I know her!" he declared. "It's Mrs. Milward. Her
sister was our neighbour at home; I've met her often."

"Who is she?"

"A widow--very rich, I believe. I think her daughter is married to a man
in India--or Burma."

"Is this the daughter following up the gangway?"

"No; I've never seen her before."

"I say, what a pretty girl--and a ripping figure! Once seen, never
forgotten, eh? When you have claimed the chaperon you must present me to
the young lady--especially as you are out of the running yourself."

"Out of the running--what do you mean?"

"Merely that I happened to witness that tender parting at Tilbury--the
little girl in the green hat, who was crying her eyes out!"

"She was my cousin," protested Shafto; "nothing more."

"Oh, come!" rejoined Hoskins, with a knowing sidelong glance.

"Upon my honour! nothing whatever to me but that."

"Well, I suppose I'm bound to take your word for it, but it looked
uncommonly touching--so like the real thing, and yet merely a case of