The rector of St.Denis dropped in frequently, and others occasionally, but she was lonely.

She craved the society of those nearer her own age.
Pearson's coming, then, was psychologically apt.

When he made his next call upon Captain Elisha, to find the latter out but his niece at home, she welcomed him cordially and insisted upon his waiting until her guardian returned.

The conversation was, at first, embarrassing for the ex-reporter; she spoke of her father, and Pearson--the memory of his last interview with the latter fresh in his mind, and painfully aware that she knew nothing of it--felt guilty and like a hypocrite.

But soon the subject changed, and when the captain entered the library he found the pair laughing and chatting like old acquaintances, as, of course, they were.
Captain Elisha, paying no attention to his friend's shakes of the head, invited his niece to be present at the reading of the latest addition to what he called "mine and Jim's record-breakin' sea yarn." "It's really mine, you understand, Caroline," he observed, with a wink.
"I'm silent partner in the firm--if you can call the one that does all the talkin' silent--and Jim don't do nothin' but make it up and write it and get the profits.