n't join in your blessings, I expect."

Cardo felt he had made a mistake, and looked at Valmai for inspiration.

"Mr. Wynne was rather hurried away, uncle, so he was not sorry to come
back."

Cardo nodded his thanks to Valmai, and the captain and he were soon
chatting unconstrainedly, and when at last Cardo accepted a cigar from
a silver case which the captain drew from under his pillow, his
conquest of the old man's heart was complete.

"If Ay _am_ cooped up here in bed," he said, "Ay'm not going to be
denied may smoke, nor yet may glass of toddy, though the doctor trayed
hard to stop it. 'Shall Ay mix it a little weaker, sir?' sez Jim
Harris. None of your tarnished nonsense, Ay sez, you mix it as usual.
Ay've stuck to my toddy (just one glass or two at naight) for the last
thirty years, and it's not going to turn round on me, and do me harm
now. Eh, Mr. Gwyn?"

Cardo lighted his cigar with an apology to Valmai.

"Oh, she's used to it," said the captain, "and if she don't like it,
she can go downstairs; you'll want to see about Mr. Gwyn's dinner, may
dear."

"No, no, sir," said Cardo, "certainly not. I dine every day with all
the other passengers on board the _Burrawalla_. I shall come back to
my tea, and I hope your niece will always sit down to her tea and
breakfast with me."

"Oh, well, if you laike. She's quaite fit to sit down with any
nobleman in the land."

Later on in the day, Valmai, sitting on the window-seat reading out to
her uncle from the daily paper, suddenly laid it aside.

"Rather a dull paper to-day, uncle!"

"Yes, rather, may dear; but you are not reading as well as usual;" and
she wasn't, for in truth she was casting about in her mind for a good
opening for her confession to her uncle. "Suppose you sing me a song,
may dear!"

And she tried--

"By Berwen's banks my love hath strayed
For many a day in sun and shade,
And as she carolled loud and clear
The little birds flew down to hear."

"That don't go as well as usual, too," said her uncle, unceremoniously
cutting short the ballad. "Haven't you any more news to give me?"

"Shall I tell you a story, uncle?"

"Well, what's it about, may dear? Anything to pass the taime! Ay'm
getting very taired of lying abed."

"Well then, listen uncle; it's a true story."

"Oh, of course," said the old man. "'Is it true, mother?' Ay used to
ask when she told us a story. 'Yes, of course,' she'd say, 'if it
didn't happen i