Frere. He was walking up and
down the deck, smoking.

"Mr. Frere, I am sent to talk to you."

"Are you? All right--go on."

"Oh dear, no. It is the gentleman's place to entertain. Be amusing!"

"Come and sit down then," said Frere, who was in good humour at the
success of his arrangements. "What shall we talk about?"

"You stupid man! As if I knew! It is your place to talk. Tell me a fairy
story."

"'Jack and the Beanstalk'?" suggested Frere.

"Jack and the grandmother! Nonsense. Make one up out of your head, you
know."

Frere laughed.

"I can't," he said. "I never did such a thing in my life."

"Then why not begin? I shall go away if you don't begin."

Frere rubbed his brows. "Well, have you read--have you read 'Robinson
Crusoe?'"--as if the idea was a brilliant one.

"Of course I have," returned Sylvia, pouting. "Read it?--yes.
Everybody's read 'Robinson Crusoe!'"

"Oh, have they? Well, I didn't know; let me see now." And pulling hard
at his pipe, he plunged into literary reflection.

Sylvia, sitting beside him, eagerly watching for the happy thought that
never came, pouted and said, "What a stupid, stupid man you are! I shall
be so glad to get back to papa again. He knows all sorts of stories,
nearly as many as old Danny."

"Danny knows some, then?"

"Danny!"--with as much surprise as if she said "Walter Scott!" "Of
course he does. I suppose now," putting her head on one side, with an
amusing expression of superiority, "you never heard the story of the
'Banshee'?"

"No, I never did."

"Nor the 'White Horse of the Peppers'?"

"No."

"No, I suppose not. Nor the 'Changeling'? nor the 'Leprechaun'?" "No."

Sylvia got off the skylight on which she had been sitting, and surveyed
the smoking animal beside her with profound contempt.

"Mr. Frere, you are really a most ignorant person. Excuse me if I hurt
your feelings; I have no wish to do that; but really you are a most
ignorant person--for your age, of course."

Maurice Frere grew a little angry. "You are very impertinent, Sylvia,"
said he.

"Miss Vickers is my name, Lieutenant Frere, and I shall go and talk to
Mr. Bates."

Which threat she carried out on the spot; and Mr. Bates, who had filled
the dangerous office of pilot, told her about divers and coral reefs,
and some adventures of his--a little apocryphal--in the China Seas.
Frere resumed his smoking, half angry with himself, and half angry with
the provoking little fairy. This elfi