of any theory about
that, and that's the sort of thing that suits me."

Captain Lancaster smiled. He was a dry old salt, and listened more than
he talked.

"Just now," he remarked, "I guess Dick will stick to his theories, and
for a while he won't be apt to give his mind to mathematics very much,
except to that kind of figuring which makes him understand that one and
one makes one."

There was a thing the two old mates were agreed upon. No matter-what
Dick's position might be in the college, his salary should be as large
as that of any other professor. They could do it, and they would do it.
They liked the idea, and they shook hands over it.

Olive was greatly pleased with Captain Lancaster. "There is the scent of
the sea about him," she wrote to Dick, "as there is about Uncle John and
father, but it is different. It is constant and fixed, like the smell
of salt mackerel. He would never keep a toll-gate; nor would he marry a
young wife. Not that I object to either of these things, for if the one
had not happened I would never have known you; and if the other had not
happened, I might not have become engaged to you."

The two captains dined at Broadstone while Olive was there, and Captain
Lancaster highly approved of Mrs. Easterfield. All seafaring men did--as
well as most other men.

"It is a shame she had to marry a landsman," said Captain Lancaster,
when he and Captain John had gone home. "It seems to me she would have
suited you."

"You might mention that the next time you go to her house," said Captain
Asher. "I don't believe it has ever been properly considered."

It was at this time that Olive's mind was set at rest about one of her
discarded lovers. Mr. Du Brant wrote her a letter.

"MY DEAR MISS ASHER--It is very long since I have had any
communication with you, but this silence on my part has been the
result of circumstances, and not owing, I assure you upon my honor,
to any diminution of the great regard (to use a moderate term)
which I feel for you. I had not the pleasure of seeing you when I
left Broadstone, but our mutual friend, Mrs. Easterfield, told me
you had sent to me a message. I firmly (but I trust politely)
declined to receive it. And so, my dear Miss Asher, as the offer I
made you then has never received any acknowledgment, I write now
to renew it. I lay my heart at your feet, and entreat you to do me
the honor of accepting my hand