ur story;
during which period he contrived to kill time quite agreeably in
fishing, shooting, surveying the harbor, and last but not least, in
paying continual attention to the fair Mary. He had one day made a visit
to Captain Bowline's house, and had accompanied him in a ramble over
part of his farm. During their "cruize," the old sailor had detailed his
plans for the season, and gradually extending his views, announced
certain arrangements and alterations as about to be carried into
execution "when Mary gets married." When Mary gets married! the words
passed like the shock of a galvanic battery through the mind of the
younger seaman; he soon took leave, and as he strolled, unconscious of
the direction his feet were taking without admitting his head into their
counsels, down towards the narrow strip of white sand beach at the foot
of the headland already mentioned, her father's words, the last that he
distinctly heard or recollected, continued to sound in his ears--

"When Mary gets married! well, she must get married some time or other,
and who will it be?" he said to himself, suddenly stopping short. "She
seems to prefer me at present, but I know that when I am at sea she
appears to favor Sam Ingraham, or Ben Bass, just as much. Yet why
should she be so anxious to have me stay on shore to avoid an accident
that may not occur again in a century, if I should live so long, unless
she does really prefer me to all others? I will certainly try to find
out the state of her feelings towards me the first opportunity, and if
she refuses me, I will never set foot in B---- again."

With this chivalrous determination he visited his lovely and all
unconscious mistress the next day, but the fair lady was busy
ironing.--"I shall see her again this evening," thought he, as he turned
slowly towards the town; and see her that evening he did. They rambled
out towards the cape, or promontory, almost invariably the scene of
their summer evening walks; for lovers, after one or two strolls over a
particular portion of ground, regard it as almost sacred; there are a
thousand sweet recollections connected with every step--here they have
paused to admire some particular feature in the prospect--under that
spreading tree they have stood together in silence, busy with their own
peculiar thoughts; and this walk is seldom, if ever, changed--it is
almost like inconstancy to each other to propose a different route.

They had reached the high bluff