ver see him again."

The little girl's expression changed while he spoke, then her lip
trembled, and she burst into tears.

"See there, Janet," said Spink, pointing to Maggie, and looking
earnestly at his wife.

"Weel-a-weel," replied Janet, somewhat softened, yet with much firmness,
"I'll no deny that the man was fond o' the bairn, and it liked him weel
enough; but, my certes! he wad hae made a bad man o' you if he could.
But I'm real sorry for Ruby Brand; and what'll the puir lassie Gray do?
Ye'll hae to gang up an' gie them the message."

"So I will; but that's like somethin' to eat, I think?"

Spink pointed to the soup.

"Ay, it's a' we've got, so let's fa' to; and haste ye, lad. It's a sair
heart she'll hae this night--wae's me!"

While Spink and his wife were thus employed, Widow Brand, Minnie Gray,
and Captain Ogilvy were seated at tea, round the little table in the
snug kitchen of the widow's cottage.

It might have been observed that there were two teapots on the table, a
large one and a small, and that the captain helped himself out of the
small one, and did not take either milk or sugar. But the captain's
teapot did not necessarily imply tea. In fact, since the death of the
captain's mother, that small teapot had been accustomed to strong drink
only. It never tasted tea.

"I wonder if Ruby will get leave of absence," said the captain, throwing
himself back in his armchair, in order to be able to admire, with
greater ease, the smoke, as it curled towards the ceiling from his mouth
and pipe.

"I do hope so," said Mrs Brand, looking up from her knitting, with a
little sigh. Mrs Brand usually followed up all her remarks with a
little sigh. Sometimes the sigh was _very_ little. It depended a good
deal on the nature of her remark whether the sigh was of the little,
less, or least description; but it never failed, in one or other degree,
to close her every observation.

"I _think_ he will," said Minnie, as she poured a second cup of tea for
the widow.

"Ay, that's right, lass," observed the captain; "there's nothin' like
hope--

"`The pleasures of hope told a flatterin' tale
Regardin' the fleet when Lord Nelson set sail.'

"Fill me out another cup of tea, Hebe."

It was a pleasant little fiction with the captain to call his beverage
"tea". Minnie filled out a small cupful of the contents of the little
teapot, which did, indeed, resemble tea, but which smelt marvellously
like hot rum