This dispassionate remark was entirely unexpected, and the electrician, as Captain Eri would have said, “lost his bearings” completely.
“Yes--er, yes,” he stammered. “Very interesting indeed. I--I suppose you must take a good many orders in the course of a week.”
“Why, yes. Orders for the books, I mean. The books--the 'Great Naval Lives'--er--these books here.”
“I beg your pardon, but who do you think I am?”
And it was then that the perception of some tremendous blunder began to seize upon Mr. Hazeltine. He had been red before; now, he felt the redness creeping over his scalp under his hair.
“Why, why, Miss Black, I suppose; that is, I--”
Just here the door opened and Captain Eri came in. He took off his cap and then, seeing the visitor, remained standing, apparently waiting for an introduction. But the young lady did not keep him waiting long.
“Oh, I'm SO glad. Your letter came this morning, and I hurried down on the first train. I'm Elizabeth Preston.”
Perhaps, on the whole, it is not surprising that Captain Eri didn't grasp the situation. Neither his two partners nor himself had given much thought to the granddaughter of the sick man in the upper room. The Captain knew that there was a granddaughter, hence his letter; but he had heard John Baxter speak of her as being in school somewhere in Boston, and had all along conceived of her as a miss of sixteen or thereabouts. No wonder that at first he looked at the stylishly gowned young woman, who stood before him with one gloved hand extended, in a puzzled, uncomprehending way.
“Excuse me, ma'am,” he said slowly, mechanically swallowing up the proffered hand in his own mammoth fist, “but I don't know's I jest caught the name. Would you mind sayin' it ag'in?”
“Elizabeth Preston,” repeated the visitor. “Captain Baxter's granddaughter. You wrote me that he was ill, you know, and I--”
“What!” roared the Captain, delighted amazement lighting up his face like a sunrise. “You don't mean to tell me you're 'Liz'beth Baxter's gal Elsie! Well! Well! I want to know! If this don't beat all! Set down! Take your things right off. I'm mighty glad to see you.”
Captain Eri's hand, with Miss Preston's hidden in it, was moving up and down as if it worked by a clock-work arrangement. The young lady withdrew her fingers from the trap as soon as she conveniently could, but it might have been noticed that she glanced at them when she had done so, as if to make sure that the original shape remained.