help to do
better in future. In retrospect it seems I was a somewhat horrid
little chap in this. I certainly adored Miss Armstrong; though in an
entirely different way from the manner of my subsequent passion for
little black-haired Nelly Fane. The Fane family consisted of the
father, mother, one boy, and two girls: Nelly, and her sister Marion,
both charming children, the first very dark, the other fair. Nelly was
a year older than I, Marion two years younger. The boy, Tom, was
within a month or two of my own age.

It might be that I was wearying a little of the solemn sentimentality
of my attachment to Miss Armstrong; possibly the pose I thought
needful for holding this young lady's regard withal proved exhausting
after a time. At all events, I remember neglecting her shamefully in
equatorial latitudes, when the _Ariadne_ was creeping along her zig-zag
course through the Doldrums. For me this period, fascinating in
scores of other ways, belongs to Nelly Fane, with her long black
curls, biscuit-coloured legs and arms, and large, melting dark eyes.
At the time the thought of being separated from this imperious little
beauty meant for me an abomination of desolation too dreadful to be
contemplated. But, looking back upon the circumstances of my suit, I
think it likely my heart had never been captivated but for jealousy,
and my trick of seeing myself as the first figure in an illustrated
romance.

There was another boy on board--I remember only his Christian name:
Fred--who, in addition to being a year older than myself, had the huge
advantage of being an experienced traveller. He was an Australian, and
had been on a visit with his parents to the Mother-country. At a quite
early stage in our passage, he won my cordial dislike by means of his
old traveller's airs, and--far more unforgiveable--the fact that he
had the temerity to refer to my father, in my hearing, as 'The old
chap who can't get his sea-legs.' I fear I never should have forgiven
him for that.

In addition, as we youngsters played together about the decks, this
Fred used to arrogate to himself always the position of leader and
director. He knew the proper names of many things of which the rest of
us were ignorant, and, where his knowledge did not carry him, I was
assured his conceit and hardihood did. To such ears as Nelly Fane's,
for instance, 'Jib-boom,' 'Fore topmast-staysail,' must have an
admirably knowledgeable note about them, I thought, even if e