her brother was going to marry--here broke in with the
question,--

"When is it to be, brother?"

"When is what to be, sister?"

"The--the marriage."

"I tell you I _ain't_ a-goin' to marry," repeated the captain;
"though why a stout young feller like me, just turned sixty-four,
_shouldn't_ marry, is more than I can see. You know the old proverbs,
lass--'It's never too late to marry'; 'Never ventur', never give in';
'John Anderson my jo John, when we was first--first----'"

"Married," suggested Minnie.

"Just so," responded the captain, "and everybody knows that _he_ was
an old man. But no, I'm not goin' to marry; I'm only goin' to give up
my house, sell off the furniture, and come and live with _you_."

"Live with me!" ejaculated Mrs. Brand.

"Ay, an' why not? What's the use o' goin' to the expense of two
houses when one'll do, an' when we're both raither scrimp o' the
ready? You'll just let me have the parlour. It never was a comf'rable
room to sit in, so it don't matter much your givin' it up; it's a
good enough sleepin' and smokin' cabin, an' we'll all live together
in the kitchen. I'll throw the whole of my _tree_mendous income into
the general purse, always exceptin' a few odd coppers, which I'll
retain to keep me a-goin' in baccy. We'll sail under the same flag,
an' sit round the same fire, an' sup at the same table, and sleep in
the same--no, not exactly that, but under the same roof-tree,
which'll be a more hoconomical way o' doin' business, you know; an'
so, old girl, as the song says--

'Come an' let us be happy together,
For where there's a will there's a way,
An' we won't care a rap for the weather
So long as there's nothin' to pay'."

"Would it not be better to say, 'so long as there's _something_ to
pay?'" suggested Minnie.

"No, lass, it _wouldn't_," retorted the captain. "You're too fond of
improvin' things. I'm a stanch old Tory, I am. I'll stick to the old
flag till all's blue. None o' your changes or improvements for me."

This was a rather bold statement for a man to make who improved upon
almost every line he ever quoted; but the reader is no doubt
acquainted with parallel instances of inconsistency in good men even
in the present day.

"Now, sister," continued Captain Ogilvy, "what d'ye think of my
plan?"

"I like it well, brother," replied Mrs. Brand with a gentle smile.
"Will you come soon?"

"To-morrow, about eight bells," ans