“You have company,” he said, “but can I see you for a very few minutes?  It is important.”

“Of course you can,” said she, closing the study door.  “Our Dorcas Society meets here to-day, but we have not yet come to order.  I shall be glad to hear what you have to say.”

So they sat down, and he told her what he had to say, and as she listened she grew very angry.  When she heard the epithet which had been applied to Olive she sprang to her feet.  “The wretch!” she cried.

“Now, you see, Mrs. Faulkner,” said the captain, “I can do nothing at all myself, and there is no way to make use of the law; that would be horrible for Olive, and it could not be done; and so I have come to ask help of you.  I don’t see that any other man could do more than I could do.”

Mrs. Faulkner sat silent for a few minutes.  “I am so glad you came to me,” she said presently.  “I have always known Miss Port as a scandal-monger and a mischief-maker, but I never thought of her as a wicked woman.  This persecution of you is shameful, but when I think of your niece it is past belief!  You are right, Captain Asher; it must be a woman who must take up your cause.  In fact,” said she after a moment’s thought, “it must be women.  Yes, sir.”  And as she spoke her face flushed with enthusiasm.  “I am going to take up your cause, and my friends in there, the ladies of the Dorcas Society, will stand by me, I know.  I don’t know what we shall do, but we are going to stand by you and your niece.”

Here was a friend worth having.  The captain was very much affected, and was moved with unusual gratitude.  He had been used to fighting his own battles in this world, and here was some one coming forward to fight for him.

There came upon him a feeling that it would be a shame to let this true lady take up a combat which she did not wholly understand.  He made up his mind in an instant that he would not care what danger might be threatened to other people, or to trade, or to society, he would be true to this lady, to Olive, and to himself.  He would tell her the whole story.  She should know what Olive had done, and how little his poor girl deserved the shameful treatment she had received.

Mrs. Faulkner listened with pale amazement; she trembled from head to foot as she sat.

“And you must tell no one but your husband,” said the captain.  “This is a state secret, and he must promise to keep it before you tell.”

She promised everything.  She would be so proud to tell her husband.

When the captain had gone, Mrs. Faulkner, in a very unusual state of mind, went into the parlor, took the chair, and putting aside all other business, told to the eagerly receptive members the story of Miss Port and Captain Asher.  How she had persecuted him, and maligned him, and of the shameful way in which she had spoken of his niece.  But not one word did she tell of the story of the two gentlemen in the barouche, and of the air-gun.  She was wild to tell everything, but she was a good woman.