Returning to London, we will follow Captain Bream, who, one fine
morning, walked up to Mrs Dotropy's mansion at the west end, and
applied the knocker vigorously.
"Is Miss Ruth at home?"
Yes, Miss Ruth was at home, and would he walk in.
He was ushered into the library of the mansion; that room in which the
Dotropy ancestors, who could not find space among their kindred in the
dining-room, held, so to speak, an overflow meeting to themselves. Ruth
soon joined him.
"I'm so glad to see you, Captain Bream," she said, shaking with much
fervency the hand held out to her. "Sit down. It is so kind of you to
come at once to help me in my little schemes--though I have not seen you
to explain why I asked you--but there, I was almost off on another
subject before I had begun the one I wish to consult you about. And, do
you know, captain," added Ruth, with a slightly perplexed look, "I find
scheming a very troublesome business!"
"I should think you did, Miss Ruth, and it seems to me that it's always
better to go straight at what you've got to do without scheming--all
fair an' aboveboard. Excuse me, my dear, but an old man who has sailed
your lamented father's ships for over thirty years, and known you since
you were a baby, may be allowed to say he's surprised that _you_ should
take to scheming."
"An old man who has not only sailed my dear father's ships for over
thirty years," said Ruth, "but has brought me toys from all parts of the
world, and has, besides, been as true to the family as the needle to the
pole--or truer, if all be true that is said of needles--may say to my
father's daughter exactly what he pleases without the smallest chance of
giving offence. But, let me tell you, sir, that you are a foolish old
man, and much too quick in forming your opinions. Scheming is both
justifiable and honourable at times--as I shall soon convince you."