point this out, and at any cost.

"You mean when Ready asked him if we were out of our course? I must
say I thought it was a silly question to put. It was the same the other
evening about the cargo. If the skipper says we're in ballast why not
believe him? Why repeat steerage gossip, about mysterious cargoes, at
the cuddy table? Captains are always touchy about that sort of thing. I
wasn't surprised at his letting out."

My poor love stares at me in the starlight. Her great eyes flash their
scorn. Then she gives a little smile--and then a little nod--more
scornful than all the rest.

"You never are surprised, are you, Mr. Cole?" says she. "You were not
surprised when the wretch used horrible language in front of me! You
were not surprised when it was a--dying man--whom he abused!"

I try to soothe her. I agree heartily with her disgust at the epithets
employed in her hearing, and towards an invalid, by the irate skipper.
But I ask her to make allowances for a rough, uneducated man, rather
clumsily touched upon his tender spot. I shall conciliate her presently;
the divine pout (so childish it was!) is fading from her lips; the
starlight is on the tulle and lace and roses of her pretty evening
dress, with its festooned skirts and obsolete flounces; and I am
watching her, ay, and worshipping her, though I do not know it yet. And
as we stand there comes another snatch from the forecastle:--

"What will you do, love, when I am going.
With white sail flowing,
The seas beyond?
What will you do, love--"

"They may make the most of that song," says Miss Denison grimly; "it's
the last they'll have from me. Get up as many more concerts as you like.
I won't sing at another unless it's in the fo'c'sle. I'll sing to the
men, but not to Captain Harris. He didn't put in an appearance tonight.
He shall not have another chance of insulting me."

Was it her vanity that was wounded after all? "You forget," said I,
"that you would not answer when he addressed you at dinner."

"I should think I wouldn't, after the way he spoke to Mr. Ready; and he
too agitated to come to table, poor fellow!"

"Still, the captain felt the open slight."

"Then he shouldn't have used such language in front of me."

"Your father felt it, too, Miss Denison."

I hear nothing plainer than her low but quick reply:

"Mr. Cole, my father has been dead many; many years; he died before I
can remember. That man only