uite proper that
you and Miss Edith should be spooning all the time, night and day; and
to my mind, Colonel Shepard has decided to go in his own yacht to
prevent this thing, as well as to retain his own self-respect. I dare
say he is no longer willing to be the guests, with his whole family, of
Alick or yourself. That's the whole of it. It is better for you to
visit the young lady occasionally than to spend weeks or months with
her in a little steam-yacht."

I thought my father was rather severe upon my cousin, and I determined
to speak to him about the matter when we were alone. I told my father
that Peeks had been obliged to leave, and that I must look up a steward
at once.

He told me I need not go far to find one, and recommended me to give
the place to Cobbington. I had not thought of such a thing, and I
hastened on board to consider the matter.

CHAPTER IV.

NICK BOOMSBY HAS ASPIRATIONS.

When I reached Market Wharf I found that the Islander had hauled out
into the stream from the wharf where she had been undergoing repairs.
Captain Blastblow had certainly done his work well. The twin sister of
the Sylvania had been painted, and she looked as though she had just
come out of the ship-yard for the first time. She was moored off the
yacht-club house, and the American flag was flying at her peak, as
though she had just gone into commission.

I earnestly hoped that Colonel Shepard would conclude to make the trip
up the Mississippi, for I was very confident we should enjoy yachting
on the great river much more in company with the Islander, and the
pleasant party on board of her, than we could alone.

I took a shore boat to board the Sylvania, for as this was our last
chance on shore for the present, all hands had been allowed to spend
the day in the city. Cobbington declared that he did not care to see
any more of the city, where he had passed so many miserable days, and
had volunteered to remain on board as ship-keeper.

Miles Cobbington had come to the south as an invalid, and having no
means, he had picked up a precarious living by hunting, fishing, and
doing such odd jobs of work as he could find. When I came across him he
was hungry, and without a place to lay his head. With good living on
board the Sylvania, and with his mind relieved of all anxiety about his
daily food and shelter, he had picked up wonderfully during the month
of our trip up the river.

"Well, Miles, how do you get on?" I aske