In the
afternoon the entire party took the train for the home of the captain.
Christy's welcome was as hearty as though he had come home a commodore.
The visitors were received with a sincere greeting, and Bertha and
Florry were soon fast friends. Even if Christy's father had not dropped
a hint to Mrs. Passford in regard to the fact that his son was at least
tenderly inclined towards the lovely maiden from the South she could not
have failed to notice his attentions to her. Later at night his father
and mother had a long talk over the matter.
"Christy, I have a couple of envelopes for you," said Captain Passford,
as the party seated themselves in the drawing-room after supper.
"Envelopes, father?" asked the young officer curiously. "Base ball or
boat-club business?"
"I should say neither; decidedly not," replied his father, taking the
documents from his pocket, and handing them to him. "They have an
official look, and bear the imprint of the Navy Department."
"What business can the Navy Department have with me now? I have the
honor to be the executive officer of the gunboat Bronx, with the rank of
master, on detached duty as prize-master," added Christy, as he looked
at the ponderous envelopes.
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