nd
Admiral Blue, as was; but as is now dead and gone this many a long
year."

"Admiral of the Blue," repeated Sir Gervaise coldly. "You're mistaken,
Galleygo, I'm an admiral of the white, and admiral of the fleet in the
bargain. I know my own rank, sir."

"I knows that as well as you does yourself, Sir Jarvy," answered
Galleygo, whose grammar had rather become confirmed than improved, by
time, "or as well as the First Lord himself. But Admiral Blue was once
your best friend, and I doesn't at all admire at your forgetting
him--one of these long nights you'll be forgetting _me_."

"I beg your pardon, Galleygo; I rather think not. I remember _you_, when
a very young man."

"Well, and so you mought remember Admiral Blue, if you'd just try. I
know'd ye both when young luffs, myself."

"This is a painful scene," observed the stranger to Sir Wycherly, with a
melancholy smile. "This gentleman is now at the tomb of his dearest
friend; and yet, as you see, he appears to have lost all recollection
that such a person ever existed. For what do we live, if a few brief
years are to render our memories such vacant spots!"

"Has he been long in this way?" asked Lady Wychecombe, with interest.

The stranger started at the sound of her voice. He looked intently into
the face of the still fair speaker, before he answered; then he bowed,
and replied--

"He has been failing these five years, though his last visit here was
much less painful than this. But are our own memories perfect?--Surely,
I have seen that face before!--These young ladies, too--"

"Geoffrey--_dear_ cousin Geoffrey!" exclaimed Lady Wychecombe, holding
out both her hands. "It is--it must be the Duke of Glamorgan, Wycherly!"

No further explanations were needed. All the parties recognised each
other in an instant. They had not met for many--many years, and each had
passed the period of life when the greatest change occurs in the
physical appearance; but, now that the ice was broken, a flood of
recollections poured in. The duke, or Geoffrey Cleveland, as we prefer
to call him, kissed his cousin and her daughters with frank affection,
for no change of condition had altered his simple sea-habits, and he
shook hands with the gentlemen, with a cordiality like that of old
times. All this, however, was unheeded by Sir Gervaise, who sat looking
at the monument, in a dull apathy.

"Galleygo," he said; but Galleygo had placed himself before Sir
Wycherly, and thrust out a