mple. He had
overheard his skipper say how fond Eve was of shells--especially of
those which came from the bottom of the North Sea, and of all sorts of
pretty and curious things, wherever they came from.

From that hour Bob Lumpy became a diligent collector of marine
curiosities, and the very small particular corner of the vessel which he
called his own became ere long quite a museum. They say that sympathy
is apt to grow stronger between persons of opposite constitutions. If
this be so, perhaps it was his nature--his bold, hearty, gushing,
skylarking spirit, his strong rugged frame, his robust health, his
carroty hair, his appley cheeks, his eagle nose, his flashing eyes--that
drew him so powerfully to the helpless, tender little invalid, with her
delicate frame and pale cheeks, straight little nose, bud of a mouth,
and timid, though by no means cowardly, spirit.

On another occasion Bob overheard Lockley again talking about Eve. "I'm
sorry for the poor thing," he said to Peter Jay, as they paced the deck
together; "she's got such a wretched home, an' her mother's such a
drunken bru--"

Lockley checked himself, and did not finish the sentence.

"The doctor says," he resumed, "that if Eve had only a bath-chair or
suthin' o' that sort, to get wheeled about in the fresh air, she'd very
likely get better as she growed older--specially if she had good
victuals. You see, small as she is, and young as she looks, she's over
fifteen. But even if she had the chair, poor thing! who would wheel it
for her? It would be no use unless it was done regular, an' her mother
can't do it--or won't."

From that hour Bob Lumpy became a miser. He had been a smoker like the
rest of the crew, but he gave up "baccy." He used to take an occasional
glass of beer or spirits when on shore or on board the _copers_, but he
became a total abstainer, much to his own benefit in every way, and as a
result he became rich--in an extremely small way.

There was a very small, thin, and dirty, but lively and intelligent boy
in Yarmouth, who loved Bob Lumsden better, if possible, than himself.
His name was Pat Stiver. The affection was mutual. Bob took this boy
into his confidence.

One day, a considerable time after Bob's discovery of Eve, Pat, having
nothing to do, sauntered to the end of Gorleston Pier, and there to his
inexpressible joy, met his friend. Before he had recovered sufficiently
from surprise to utter a word, Bob seized him by