t--opportunity. An' then she looked at me a long time an' asked
me--was I sure you had said so. An' then she got awful' angry indeed,
an' said 'How dare he! Oh, how dare he!' So a course, I told her you'd
dare anything--even a dragon,--'cause you are so big, an' brave, you
know. So then she went an' stood at the window, an' she was so angry she
cried,--an' I nearly cried too. But at last she kissed me 'Good night'
an' said you were a man that never meant anything you said, an' that I
must never believe you any more, an' that you were going away to marry a
lady in London, an' that she was very glad, 'cause then we should all be
happy again she s'posed. So she kissed me again, an' tucked me up, an'
went away. But it was a long, long time before I could go to sleep,
'cause I kept on thinking, an' thinking s'posing there really wasn't any
Money Moon, after all! s'posing you were going to marry another lady in
London!--You see, it would all be so--frightfully awful, wouldn't it?"

"Terribly dreadfully awful, my Porges."

"But you never _do_ tell lies,--do you, Uncle Porges?"

"No!"

"An'--there _is_ a Money Moon, isn't there?"

"Why of course there is."

"An' you _are_ going to marry my Auntie Anthea in the full o' the moon,
aren't you?"

"Yes, my Porges."

"Why then--everything's all right again,--so let's go an' sit under the
hay-stack, an' talk 'bout ships."

"But why of ships?" enquired Bellew, rising.

"'Cause I made up my mind, this morning, that I'd be a sailor when I
grow up,--a mariner, you know, like Peterday, only I'd prefer to have
both my legs."

"You'd find it more convenient, perhaps."

"You know all 'bout oceans, an' waves, and billows, don't you Uncle
Porges?"

"Well, I know a little."

"An' are you ever sea-sick,--like a 'landlubber?'"

"I used to be, but I got over it."

"Was it a very big ship that you came over in?"

"No,--not so very big, but she's about as fast as anything in her class,
and a corking sea-boat."

"What's her name?"

"Her name?" repeated Bellew, "well, she was called the--er 'Silvia.'"

"That's an awful' pretty name for a ship."

"Hum!--so so,--but I have learned a prettier, and next time she puts out
to sea we'll change her name, eh, my Porges?"

"We?" cried Small Porges, looking up with eager eyes, "do you mean you'd
take me to sea with you,--an' my Auntie Anthea, of course?"

"You don't suppose I'd leave either of you behind, if I could help it,
do you?