At intervals one of her hands raised itself in the air, shook an imaginary frying-pan, and dropped again with a faint thump on the cookery-book in her lap.

At the sound of her husband's voice, she started to her feet, and confronted him with her mind fast asleep, and her eyes wide open.
"Assist Miss Vanstone," said the captain.

"And the next time you forget yourself in your chair, fall asleep straight--don't annoy me by falling asleep crooked." Mrs.Wragge opened her eyes a little wider, and looked at Magdalen in helpless amazement.
"Is the captain breakfasting by candle-light ?" she inquired, meekly.
"And haven't I done the omelette ?" Before her husband's corrective voice could apply a fresh stimulant, Magdalen took her compassionately by the arm and led her out of the room.
"Another object besides the object I know of ?" repeated Captain Wragge, when he was left by himself.

"_Is_ there a gentleman in the background, after all?
Is there mischief brewing in the dark that I don't bargain for ?".