daughter"--

"God bless him, dear old gentleman!--but what did he tell you, Lucy?"

"You will never learn, if you thus interrupt me, Miles," Lucy answered,
smiling saucily in my face, though she permitted me still to hold both her
hands, as if I had taken possession of them literally with an intent to
keep them, blushing at the same time as much with happiness, I thought, as
with the innate modesty of her nature. "Have a little patience, and I will
tell you. When my father thought you dead, he told me the manner in which
you had confessed to him the preference you felt for me; and _do_ you,
_can_ you think, after I was thus put in possession of such a secret, I
could listen to Andrew Drewett, or to any one else?"

I shall not reveal what followed this speech; but I may say that, in the
course of the next ten minutes, Lucy mildly reproached me again for having
so long delayed my declaration.

"I knew you so well, Miles," she continued, smiling--as for blushing, that
she did nearly the whole of the remainder of the day--"I know you so well,
Miles, that I am afraid I should have made the declaration myself, had you
not found your tongue. Silly fellow! how _could_ you suppose I would ever
love any but you?--see here!"

She drew the locket I had given her from her dress, and placed it in my
hands, still warm from lying near her heart! I had no choice, but to kiss
Lucy again, or to kiss this locket; and I did both, by way of leaving no
further grounds for self-reproach. I say, kiss her again, for, to own the
truth, I had already done so many times in that interview.

At length, Chloe put her head in at the door, having taken the precaution
first to give a gentle tap, to inquire if dinner should be served. Lucy
dined at four, and it was now drawing toward five.

"Has my father come in?" demanded the young mistress of her attendant.

"Not yet, Miss Lucy; but he nebber t'ink much of dinner, Miss Lucy, ma'am;
and masser Mile been _so_ long a sailor, dat I t'ink he _must_ be hungry.
I hear dat he hab berry hard time, dis v'y'ge, Miss Lucy--too hard for old
masser and missus son!"

"Ay, you have seen Neb, if the truth were told, Miss Chloe," I cried; "and
he has been charming your ear with Othello-tales, of his risks and
hardships, to make you love him."

I cannot say that Chloe actually blushed, or, if she did, the spectators
were none the wiser for the weakness. But dark as was the skin of this
honest-hearted girl, she