s so depressing, that Jeff, who was already
almost worn out with excitement, leaned heavily on his stick for
support.

"Jeff," returned the captain severely, "how could you do it?"

"I hardly know," rejoined Jeff, feeling something of the old Adam rising
in his breast; "but my intentions were honourable, whatever my conduct
may have been under impulse and strong temptation. Perhaps I might
appeal to your own experience. Have you never done that which you did
not mean to under the power of impulse?"

"You've hit me there, boy, below the water-line," said the captain,
relaxing a little: "for I not only put the question to my old woman
without leave, but carried her off with flyin' colours against orders;
but it came all right at last, though I didn't deserve it. However,
Jeff, you've no need to look so blue. My little girl has raised no
false hopes in your breast. Moreover, let me tell you, for your
comfort, that I saw the doctor this morning, and he says that your
constitution is so strong that you're in a fair way to pull through in
spite of him, and that you'll be fit for good service yet--though not
exactly what you were before. So, keep up your heart, Jeff! Never say
die, and you shall wed my Rosebud yet, as sure as my name's Dick
Millet."

There was need for these words of comfort, for the poor youth was
obliged to sit down on the sand for a few minutes to recover strength.

"I've had a pretty stiff morning altogether, captain," he said
apologetically; "but I'm thankful--very thankful--for the succession of
events that have brought me to this happy hour."

"And yet, Jeff," said the captain, sitting down beside him, "you and I
thought these events--the wreck, and the loss of employment, and the
overturning o' the lifeboat, and the thump on the ribs, and the long
illness--nothing but misfortunes and full of evil _at first_. There,--
I'm not goin' to draw no moral. I never was good at that. Come, now,
if you've rested enough, we'll up anchor and away. I've got a dog-cart
beatin' off an' on round the p'int there, an' my Rosebud will be gettin'
impatient."

This was true--Rose was becoming not only impatient but anxious. When,
however, she saw her father and lover approach, all her anxieties
vanished.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE MATTER.

The wonder-working power of Time is proverbial. Behold Jeffrey Benson
once again, looking like his old self, at the hospitable board of Miss
M