"I've got a boy," he said; "but he's married."

"My girl has never married; she's a good daughter,"--Mrs. North broke
off with a nervous laugh; "here she is, now!"

Mary North, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway, gave a questioning
sniff, and the Captain's hand sought his guilty pocket; but Miss North
only said: "How do you do, sir? Now, mother, don't talk too much and get
tired." She stopped and tried to smile, but the painful color came into
her face. "And--if you please, Captain Price, will you speak in a low
tone? Large, noisy persons exhaust the oxygen in the air, and--"

_"Mary!"_ cried poor Mrs. North; but the Captain, clutching his old felt
hat, began to hoist himself up from the sofa, scattering ashes about as
he did so. Mary North compressed her lips.

"I tell my daughter-in-law they'll keep the moths away," the old
gentleman said, sheepishly.

"I use camphor," said Miss North. "Flora must bring a dust-pan."

"Flora?" Alfred Price said. "Now, what's my association with that name?"

"She was our old cook," Mrs. North explained; "this Flora is her
daughter. But you never saw old Flora?"

"Why, yes, I did," the old man said, slowly. "Yes. I remember Flora.
Well, good-by,--Mrs. North."