"Is--is my niece, Louise Grayling, here?" queried the lady, her voice
actually trembling, her gaze glued to the figure behind the counter.
"'Hem!" said the captain, clearing his throat. "Who did you say you
was, ma'am?"
"I did not say," the visitor answered stiffly enough now. "I asked you
a question."
"Likely--likely," agreed Cap'n Amazon. "But you intimated that you was
the a'nt of a party by the name of Grayling. I happen to be her uncle
myself. Her mother was my ha'f-sister. I don't remember--jest _who'd_
you say you was, ma'am?"
"I am her father's own sister," cried the lady in desperation.
"Oh, yes! I see!" murmured Cap'n Amazon. "Then you must be her A'nt
'Phemie. I've heard Louise speak of you. Tubbesure!"
"I am Mrs. Conroth," said Mrs. Euphemia Conroth haughtily.
"Happy to make your acquaintance," said Cap'n Amazon, bobbing his head
and putting forth his big hand. Mrs. Conroth scorned the hand, raised
her lorgnette and stared at the old mariner as though he were some
curious specimen from the sea that she had never observed before.
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