se," said Hardy; "she can't marry you against your will. Just be
distantly civil to her."

"'Ow can you be distantly civil when she lives just opposite?" inquired
the steward, querulously. "She sent Teddy over at ten o'clock last night
to rub my chest with a bottle o' liniment, and it's no good me saying I'm
all right when she's been spending eighteen-pence o' good money over the
stuff."

"She can't marry you unless you ask her," said the comforter.

Mr. Wilks shook his head. "People in the alley are beginning to talk,"
he said, dolefully. "Just as I came in this afternoon old George Lee
screwed up one eye at two or three women wot was gossiping near, and when
I asked 'im wot 'e'd got to wink about he said that a bit o' wedding-cake
'ad blowed in his eye as I passed. It sent them silly creeturs into fits
a'most."

[Illustration: "He said that a bit o' wedding-cake 'ad blowed in his
eye."]

"They'll soon get tired of it," said Hardy.

Mr. Wilks, still gloomy, ventured to doubt it, but cheered up and became
almost bright when his visitor announced his intention of trying to
smooth over matters for him at Equator Lodge. He became quite voluble in
his defence, and attached much importance to the fact that he had nursed
Miss Nugent when she was in long clothes and had taught her to whistle
like an angel at the age of five.

"I've felt being cut adrift by her more than anything," he said,
brokenly. "Nine-an'-twenty years I sailed with the cap'n and served 'im
faithful, and this is my reward."

Hardy pleaded his case next day. Miss Nugent was alone when he called,
and, moved by the vivid picture he drew of the old man's loneliness,
accorded her full forgiveness, and decided to pay him a visit at once.
The fact that Hardy had not been in the house five minutes she appeared
to have overlooked.

"I'll go upstairs and put my hat and jacket on and go now," she said,
brightly.

"That's very kind of you," said Hardy. His voice expressed admiring
gratitude; but he made no sign of leaving his seat.

"You don't mind?" said Miss Nugent, pausing in front of him and slightly
extending her hand.

"Not in the least," was the reply; "but I want to see Wilks myself.
Perhaps you'll let me walk down with you?"

The request was so unexpected that the girl had no refusal ready. She
hesitated and was lost. Finally, she expressed a fear that she might
keep him waiting too long while she got ready--a fear which he politely