in should we grow ever so tired of it."

"I have no fear of that last so far as my feelings are concerned,
dearest, and I hope you have none," he said in a tone that spoke some
slight uneasiness.

"Not the slightest," she hastened to reply. "I think we know each
other too thoroughly to indulge any such doubts and fears. Still, as I
have great faith in your father's wisdom, and courting times are not
by any means unpleasant, I feel in no haste to bring them to an end.
You make such a delightful lover, Max, that the only thing I feel in a
hurry about is the right to call the dear captain father."

"Ah, I don't wonder that you are in haste for that," returned Max. "I
should be sorry indeed not to have that right. He is a father to love
and to be proud of."

"He is indeed," she responded. "I fell in love with him at first sight
and have loved him more and more ever since; for the better one knows
him the more admirable and lovable he seems."

"I think that is true," said Max. "I am very proud of my father and
earnestly desire to have him proud of me."

"Which he evidently is," returned Eva, "and I don't wonder at it."

"Thank you," laughed Max; then added more gravely, "I hope I may never
do anything to disgrace him."

"I am sure you never will," returned Eva in a tone that seemed to say
such a thing could not be possible. "Had we not better retrace our
steps to the house now?" she asked the next moment.

"Probably," said Max. "I presume father would say I ought not to
deprive you of your beauty sleep. But these private walks and chats
are so delightful to me that I am apt to be selfish about prolonging
them."

"And your experience on shipboard has accustomed you to late hours, I
suppose?"

"Yes; to rather irregular times of sleeping and waking. A matter of
small importance, however, when one gets used to it."

"But there would be the rub with me," she laughed, "in the getting
used to it."

CHAPTER XII.

"Cousin Ronald, can't you make some fun for us?" asked Ned at the
breakfast table the next morning. "We haven't had any of your kind
since we came here."

"Well, and what of that, youngster? must you live on fun all the
time?" asked a rough voice directly behind the little boy.

"Oh! who are you? and how did you come in here?" he asked, turning
half round in his chair, in the effort to see the speaker. "Oh, pshaw!
you're nobody. Was it you, Cousin Ronald? or was it b