nd be my own servant as well as your's. Say
the word."

"I can refuse nothing to Willie's friend," said old Mrs Roby, "but
really I--"

"Done, it's a bargain," interrupted the Captain, rising abruptly. "Now,
I'll go visit young Mr Lawrence and Mrs Stoutley, and to-morrow I'll
bring my kit, take possession of my berth, and you and I shall sail in
company, I hope, and be messmates for some time to come."

CHAPTER THREE.

DIFFICULTIES AMONG THE SOCIAL SUMMITS.

In one of the many mansions of the "west end" of London, a lady reclined
one morning on a sofa wishing that it were afternoon. She was a
middle-aged, handsome, sickly lady. If it had been afternoon she would
have wished that it were evening, and if it had been evening she would
have wished for the morning; for Mrs Stoutley was one of those languid
invalids whose enjoyment appears to be altogether in the future or the
past, and who seem to have no particular duties connected with the
present except sighing and wishing. It may be that this unfortunate
condition of mind had something to do with Mrs Stoutley's feeble state
of health. If she had been a little more thoughtful about others, and
less mindful of herself, she might, perhaps, have sighed and wished
less, and enjoyed herself more. At all events her doctor seemed to
entertain some such opinion, for, sitting in an easy chair beside her,
and looking earnestly at her handsome, worn-out countenance, he said,
somewhat abruptly, being a blunt doctor.

"You must go abroad, madam, and try to get your mind, as well as your
body, well shaken up."

"Why, doctor," replied Mrs Stoutley, with a faint smile; "you talk of
me as if I were a bottle of physic or flat ginger-beer."

"You are little better, silly woman," thought the doctor, but his innate
sense of propriety induced him only to say, with a smile, "Well, there
is at least this much resemblance between you and a bottle of flat
ginger-beer, namely, that both require to be made to effervesce a
little. It will never do to let your spirits down as you have been
doing. We must brighten up, my dear madam--not Brighton up, by the way,
we've had enough of Brighton and Bath, and such places. We must get
away to the Continent this summer--to the Pyrenees, or Switzerland,
where we can breathe the fresh mountain air, and ramble on glaciers, and
have a thorough change."

Mrs Stoutley looked gently, almost pitifully at the doctor while he
spoke, as if she t