aid. "Not until I beg your pardon."

"Beg my pardon? Why?"

He absently took the hand and held it.

"For the word I sent to you when I went away. 'Twas an awful thing to
say, but I meant it for your sake, you know. Honest, I did."

She laughed nervously.

"Oh! that," she said. "Well, I did think you were rather particular as
to your visitors. But Mr. Tidditt explained, and then--You needn't beg
my pardon. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I knew you meant to be kind
to me."

"That's what I did. But you didn't obey orders. You kept comin'. Now,
why--"

"Why? Did you suppose that _I_ cared for the malicious gossip of--such
people? I came because you were in trouble, and I hoped to help you.
And--and I thought I had helped, until a few minutes ago."

Her lip quivered. That quiver went to the captain's heart.

"Helped?" he faltered. "Helped? Why, you've done so much that I can't
ever thank you. You've been the only real helper I've had in all this
miserable business. You've stood by me all through."

"But it was all wrong. He isn't the man at all. Didn't Mr. Peabody tell
you?"

"Yes, yes, he told me. What difference does that make? Peabody be
hanged! He ain't in this. It's you and me--don't you see? What made you
do all this for me?"

She looked at the floor and not at him as she answered.

"Why, because I wanted to help you," she said. "I've been alone in the
world ever since mother died, years ago. I've had few real friends. Your
friendship had come to mean a great deal to me. The splendid fight you
were making for that little girl proved what a man you were. And you
fought so bravely when almost everyone was against you, I couldn't help
wanting to do something for you. How could I? And now it has come to
nothing--my part of it. I'm so sorry."

"It ain't, neither. It's come to everything. Phoebe, I didn't mean to
say very much more than to beg your pardon when I headed for here. But
I've got to--I've simply got to. This can't go on. I can't have you
keep comin' to see me--and Bos'n. I can't keep meetin' you every day. I
CAN'T."

She looked up, as if to speak, but something, possibly the expression in
his face, caused her to look quickly down again. She did not answer.

"I can't do it," continued the captain desperately. "'Tain't for what
folks might say. They wouldn't say much when I was around, I tell you.
It ain't that. It's because I can't bear to have you just a friend.
Either you must be more'n t