skipper is not to be moved by our pleadings."

"That is the worst of you married women, Fanny," Miss Graham said, with
a little pout. "You get into the way of doing as you are ordered. I call
it too bad. Here have we been cruising about for the last fortnight,
with scarcely a breath of wind, and longing for a good brisk breeze and
a little change and excitement, and now it comes at last, we are to be
packed off in a steamer. I call it horrid of you, Mr. Virtue. You may
laugh, but I do."

Tom Virtue laughed, but he showed no signs of giving way, and ten
minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Grantham and Miss Graham took their places in
the gig, and were rowed into Southampton Harbor, off which the Seabird
was lying.

The last fortnight had been a very pleasant one, and it had cost the
owner of the Seabird as much as his guests to come to the conclusion
that it was better to break up the party for a few hours.

Tom Virtue had, up to the age of five-and-twenty, been possessed of a
sufficient income for his wants. He had entered at the bar, not that he
felt any particular vocation in that direction, but because he thought
it incumbent upon him to do something. Then, at the death of an uncle,
he had come into a considerable fortune, and was able to indulge his
taste for yachting, which was the sole amusement for which he really
cared, to the fullest.

He sold the little five tonner he had formerly possessed, and purchased
the Seabird. He could well have afforded a much larger craft, but he
knew that there was far more real enjoyment in sailing to be obtained
from a small craft than a large one, for in the latter he would be
obliged to have a regular skipper, and would be little more than a
passenger, whereas on board the Seabird, although his first hand was
dignified by the name of skipper, he was himself the absolute master.
The boat carried the aforesaid skipper, three hands, and a steward, and
with them he had twice been up the Mediterranean, across to Norway, and
had several times made the circuit of the British Isles.

He had unlimited confidence in his boat, and cared not what weather he
was out in her. This was the first time since his ownership of her that
the Seabird had carried lady passengers. His friend Grantham, an old
school and college chum, was a hard working barrister, and Virtue had
proposed to him to take a month's holiday on board the Seabird.

"Put aside your books, old man," he said. "You look fagged and
o