"I
often thought of you, dear, but not as a lover thinks. For in those days
you were to me only a sweet child (if Maoni wasn't here I'd pick you up
and nurse you), a sweet, sweet little comrade whose dear, soft eyes used
to smile into mine whenever I stepped into your father's house, and----"

"Oh, Harvey, Harvey! I have never, never forgotten you. _There!_ and
_there!_ and _there!_ I don't care if Maoni, or any one, or all the
world sees me," and she flung her soft arms round his neck and kissed
him again and again in the sheer abandonment of her innocent happiness.
"But you really _love_ me now, Harvey, don't you? And oh, Harvey dear,
where shall we live? And your sisters... if they don't like me?"

Harvey stroked her soft hair, and pressed his lips to her cheeks.

"They won't _like_ you, Tess. They'll just love you--and they'll make me
jealous."

Again her happy laugh trilled out. "How lovely!... Harvey dear?"

"Yes, Tess."

"I want to tell you something--something that only mother knows,
something about me--and a man."

Harvey looked smilingly into her deep, tender eyes, half-suffused with
tears.

"Go ahead, dear."

"Go ahead, indeed! You rough, rude sailor! Any one would think I was a
man by the way you speak to me... But, Harvey dear, listen... there was
a man who wanted to marry me."

Harvey was all attention at once. "Sit down here, little woman, and tell
me who the------"

"Sh! Don't swear, or I won't tell you anything, not _anything at all_,
about it.... Harvey dear, why do you want to go away fishing? Stay here,
and help poor Mr. Atkins."

"Who was the man, Tess?"

"Are you really, really going away for two whole days?"

"I am, sweet."

"Harvey dear, I'll tell you all about it. You won't be angry?"

"All depends. Who was the man?"

His laughing eyes belied his assumed sternness of visage, for in her
eyes there shone a light so serenely pure that he knew he had naught to
dread.

"A very, _very_ nice man, sir. Now try and guess who it was?"

"Old Schuler, the fat German trader at Yap."

"Oh, you wretch, Harvey! He's been married three times, and has dozens
and dozens of all sorts of coloured children.... Now there! Guess again
or I'll twist this side of your moustache until I make you cry....
Harvey dear, who was the girl whose photograph was over your bunk in
father's schooner?"

"I forget. Most likely it was my sister Kate," was the prompt reply.

"I don't believe you, Mr. Harvey