a longshore man
than a sailor. He was delicate, too, suffering from a weak chest; and,
Ted told me, now I come to think of it, that he volunteered for a second
term of service on the African station in order to be in a warm climate.
It didn't do him much good, though, for he died on the commission."

"How strange!" said Mrs Gilmour pensively. "I don't remember poor Ted
writing me anything about it, but I've no doubt the man was our Mrs
Craddock's husband, and, if so, that will make me take an additional
interest in her. Run upstairs, Nell, and get ready at once, my dear.
As soon as you come down we'll start, for I have only got to put on my
bonnet."

"Do you want me to come, too?" faltered the Captain, who, unless
visiting a sick-bed on an errand of mercy, dreaded going to see any one
whom he had been kind to, the old sailor doing all his good deeds, and
they were many, by stealth. Indeed, the very idea of being thanked made
him always inclined to run away, a thing he had never done from an
enemy.

"Well, if you'd rather not, or if you've somewhere else to go, I won't
insist."

"Why, I did promise to go down to the Club," he replied, still speaking
in a half-hesitating way. "I--I--I--"

"I know," said Mrs Gilmour, interrupting him, and looking very
knowing--"you don't want to go to Mrs Craddock's, because you sent her
poor daughter some port wine, and are afraid of being thanked for it--
that's the reason, I know." The Captain blushed.

"I assure you, ma'am," he began timidly to remonstrate against her
conclusion, when suddenly some little recollection gave him renewed
courage. "By Jove, I declare I nearly forgot all about it! I've got to
meet Sponson at the Club to see when that ship is going out for her
trials; I mean the one which I'm going to take Bob on board of."

"Well, be off with you to your Club," she rejoined laughing, giving him
a little push in joke. "Away with you at once!"

"You see, she turns me out," he said humorously to Bob, in a sort of
stage aside. "That's what you might call Irish hospitality."

He hurried out after his insulting remark, but popped in his head again
at the door to make a parting request.

"May I come back to dinner, please?" he asked, with his hands clasped in
mute entreaty also. "I have breakfasted and lunched with you, so I may
just as well make a day of it, and come to dinner."

"Yes, if you're good," she replied. "But why so particularly this
evening?