"Crystal-gazing, for keeping children quiet,--nothing
beats it!"

"I thought, sir, you were both in need of it. But Jamie here has
something to say to you."

"What is it--Jamie? No more trouble about that ship Maine Lady? D--n
the British collier tramps! and she as fine a clipper as ever left
Bath Bay. Well, send her back in ballast; chessmen and India shawls, I
suppose, as usual"--

"It's about Mercedes, sir."

"Oh, ah!" Mr. Bowdoin's brow grew grave.

"She will not marry John Hughson, sir."

"Now, Jamie, how the devil am I to make her?"

XII.

John Hughson took his rejection rather sullenly, and Mercedes was more
than ever alone in the old house. She never had had intimate
companions among the young women of the neighborhood, and now they put
the stigma of exclusion upon her. They envied her rejection of a
serious suitor such as John. It was rumored the latter was taking to
liquor, and she was blamed for it. Women often like to have others say
yes to the first man who comes, and not leave old love affairs to
cumber the ground. And girls, however loving to their friends, have
but a cold sympathy for their sex in general.

One person profited by it, and that was old Jamie. He urged Mercedes
nearly every day to alter her decision, and she seemed to like him for
it. Always, now, one saw her walking with him; he became her ally
against a disapproving world.

The next thing that happened was, Jamie's mother fell very ill. He had
to sit with her of nights; and she would look at him fondly (she was
too old and weak to speak much), as if he had been any handsome heir.
Mercedes would sit with them sometimes, and then go into her parlor,
where she would try to play a little, and then, as they supposed,
would read. But books, before these realities of life, failed her.
What she really did I hardly know. She wrote one letter to young
Harleston Bowdoin, and he answered it; and then a second, which was
still unanswered.

One night "the mother" spoke to Jamie of the girl: "'Tis a comely
lass. I suppose you're proud you were adopting her?"

Old Jamie's face was always red as a winter apple, but his eyes
blushed. "Anybody'd 'a' done that, mither,--such a lady as she is!"

"What'll ye be doin' of her after I'm gone? The pirate father'll come
a-claimin' of her."

Jamie looked as if the pirate captain then might meet his match.

"Jamie, my son--have ye never thought o' marryin' her your own sel'?
I'd like to