beauty: her figure
tall, supple, full of strength, in every line, her face brown and
broad-browed, with a heavy chin that gave character to the rest of her
features, and large eyes, black as sloes, that regarded the artist and
the group at his elbow with a sombre disdain. The afternoon sunshine
slanted down the pillar, was broken by the mass of dark hair she
rested against it, and ran down again along her firm and rounded arm
to the sun-bonnet she dangled by its strings. Behind her, the quay's
edge shone bright against the green water of the harbour, where, half
a cable's length from shore, a small three-masted schooner lay at
anchor, with her Blue Peter fluttering at the fore.

"He's gettin' her to-rights," observed one of the crowd.

A woman said, "I wish I'd a-been took in my young days, when I was
comely."

"Then, whyever wasn't 'ee, Mrs. Slade?"

"Well-a-well, my dear, I'm sure I dunno. Three ha'af-crowns is a
lot o' money to see piled in your palm, an' say 'Fare thee well;
increase!' Store 's no sore, as my old mother used to say."

"But," argued a man, "when once you've made up your mind to the
gallant speckilation, you never regret it--danged if you do!"

"Then why hasn't 'ee been took, Thomas, in all these years?"

"Because that little emmet o' doubt gets the better o' me every time.
'Tis like holdin' back from the Fifteen Balls: you feel sure in your
own mind you'll be better wi'out the drink, but for your life you
durstn't risk the disapp'intment. Over this matter I'll grant ye
that I preaches what I can't practise. But my preachin' is sound.
Therefore, I bid ye all follow the example o' Cap'n Hosken here,
who, bein' possessed wi' true love for 'Liza Saunders, is havin' her
portrait took for to hang up in his narrow cabin out to sea, an'
remind hissel' o' the charms that bide at home a-languishin'."

"That's not my reason, though," said Captain Hosken, a sunburnt and
serious man, at the painter's elbow.

"Then what may it be, makin' so bold?"

"I'll tell ye when the painting's done."

"A couple of strokes, and it's finished," said the artist, cocking his
head on one side and screwing up his blue eyes. "There, I'll tell you
plainly, friend, that my skill is but a seven-and-sixpenny matter, or
a trifle beyond. It does well enough what it pretends to do; but this
is a subject I never ought to have touched. I know my limits. You'll
see, sir," he went on, in a more business-like tone, "I've indicated