tual--you are greatly improved."

_Ips._ "In what respects?"

_Lady Barb._ "Did I not tell you? browner and more impudent; but tell
me," said she, resuming her sly, satirical tone, "how is it that you,
who used to be the pink of courtesy, dance and sing over the wreck of my
fortunes?"

"Because they are not wrecked."

"I thought I told you my specie is gone down in the _Tisbe."_

_Ipsden._ "But the _Tisbe_ has not gone down."

_Lady Barb._ "I tell you it is."

_Ipsden._ "I assure you it is not."

_Lady Barb._ "It is not?"

_Ipsden._ "Barbara! I am too happy, I begin to nourish such sweet hopes
once more. Oh, I could fall on my knees and bless you for something you
said just now."

Lady Barbara blushed to the temples.

"Then why don't you?" said she. "All you want is a little enthusiasm."
Then recovering herself, she said:

"You kneel on wet sand, with black trousers on; that will never be!!!"

These two were so occupied that they did not observe the approach of a
stranger until he broke in upon their dialogue.

An Ancient Mariner had been for some minutes standing off and on,
reconnoitering Lord Ipsden; he now bore down, and with great rough,
roaring cordiality, that made Lady Barbara start, cried out:

"Give me your hand, sir--give me your hand, if you were twice a lord.

"I couldn't speak to you till the brig was safe in port, and you slipped
away, but I've brought you up at last; and--give me your hand again,
sir. I say, isn't it a pity you are a lord instead of a sailor?"

_Ipsden._ "But I am a sailor."

_Ancient Mariner._ "That ye are, and as smart a one as ever tied a
true-lover's knot in the top; but tell the truth--you were never nearer
losing the number of your mess than that day in the old _Tisbe."_

_Lady Barb._ "The old _Tisbe!_ Oh!"

_Ipsden._ "Do you remember that nice little lurch she gave to leeward as
we brought her round?"

_Lady Barb._ "Oh, Richard!"

_Ancient Mariner._ "And that reel the old wench gave under our feet,
north the pier-head. I wouldn't have given a washing-tub for her at that
moment."

_Ipsden._ "Past danger becomes pleasure, sir. _Olim et hoec
meminisse_--I beg your pardon, sir."

_Ancient Mariner (taking off his hat with feeling)._ "God bless ye, sir,
and send ye many happy days, and well spent, with the pretty lady I see
alongside; asking your pardon, miss, for parting pleasanter company--so
I'll sheer off."

And away went the skipper of the _Tisbe,_