was carrying on a desperate flirtation with one of the apprentices.
"She's very light-hearted," said his wife, following the direction of
his eyes.
"She is," said Mr. Gannett curtly, as the unconscious Mrs. Cluffins shut
her parasol and rapped the apprentice playfully with the handle. "She
seems to be on very good terms with Jenkins, laughing and carrying on. I
don't suppose she's ever seen him before."
"Poor young things," said Mrs. Cluffins solemnly, as she came up to
them. "Don't you worry, Mr. Gannett; I'll look after her and keep her
from moping."
"You're very kind," said the engineer slowly.
"We'll have a jolly time," said Mrs. Cluffins. "I often wish my husband
was a seafaring man. A wife does have more freedom, doesn't she?"
"More what?" inquired Mr. Gannett huskily.
"More freedom," said Mrs. Cluffins gravely. "I always envy sailors'
wives. They can do as they like. No husband to look after them for nine
or ten months in the year."
Before the unhappy engineer could put his indignant thoughts into words
there was a warning cry from the gangway, and with a hasty farewell he
hurried below. The visitors went ashore, the gangway was shipped, and in
response to the clang of the telegraph the _Curlew_ drifted slowly away
from the quay and headed for the swing-bridge slowly opening in front of
her.
The two ladies hurried to the pier-head and watched the steamer down the
river until a bend hid it from view. Then Mrs. Gannett, with a sensation
of having lost something, due, so her friend assured her, to the want of
a cup of tea, went slowly back to her lonely home.
In the period of grass-widowhood which ensued, Mrs. Cluffins's visits
formed almost the sole relief to the bare monotony of existence. As
a companion the parrot was an utter failure, its language being so
irredeemably bad that it spent most of its time in the spare room with
a cloth over its cage, wondering when the days were going to lengthen
a bit. Mrs. Cluffins suggested selling it, but her friend repelled the
suggestion with horror, and refused to entertain it at any price, even
that of the publican at the corner, who, having heard of the bird's
command of language, was bent upon buying it.
"I wonder what that beauty will have to tell your husband," said Mrs.
Cluffins, as they sat together one day some three months after the
_Curlew's_ departure.
"I should hope that he has forgotten that nonsense," said Mrs. Gannett,
reddening; "
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