bert Massey and Joe Slag would very soon cease to
be connected with the Greyton lifeboat.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER 3.

Soon after the wedding recorded in the last chapter an event occurred
which entirely altered the character and current of our coxswain's
career, at least for a time. This was the sudden death of the
bed-ridden old mother, who had played such an interesting part at the
wedding-feast.

To our hero, who was a tender-hearted man, and a most affectionate son,
the blow was almost overwhelming, although long expected.

"I don't think I can stay here much longer," he said one evening to his
pretty wife, as they sat together outside their door and watched the
village children romping on the sands; "everything minds me o' the dear
old woman, an' takes the heart out me. If it wasn't for you, Nell, I'd
have been off to the other side o' the world long before now, but I find
it hard to think o' takin' you away from all your old friends and
playmates--and your Aunt Betty."

A peculiar smile lit up Nellie's face as her husband concluded.

"I should be sorry to leave the old friends here," she replied, "but
don't let that hinder you if ye want to go away. I'd leave everything
to please you, Bob. And as to Aunt Betty--well, I'm not ungrateful, I
hope, but--but _she_ wouldn't break her heart at partin' wi' _me_."

"Right you are, Nell, as you always was, and always will be," said
Massey. He laughed a short, dry laugh, and was grave again.

It was quite evident that Aunt Betty would not be a hindrance to the
departure of either of them and no wonder, for Betty had received Nellie
Carr into her family with a bad grace when her widowed brother, "old
Carr," died, leaving his only child without a home. From that day Betty
had brought the poor little orphan up--or, rather, had scolded and
banged her up--until Bob Massey relieved her of the charge. To do Aunt
Betty justice, she scolded and banged up her own children in the same
way; but for these--her own young ones--she entertained and expressed a
species of affection which mankind shares in common with cats, while for
Nellie Carr she had no such affection, and contrived to make the fact
abundantly plain. As we not infrequently find in such circumstances,
the favoured children--which numbered seven--became heart-breakers,
while the snubbed one turned out the flower of the flock.

"Then you're sure you won't think it hard, Nell, if I ask you to leave
home and f