still coolly.

"Its decision admits of no appeal, I must acknowledge," replied her
suitor.

"Then reason I have none, captain; and so pray let that suffice."

"But, Miss Huntington, surely--"

"Nay, captain," she said, at last, weary of his importunity, "you know
well my feelings. Far be it from me to play for one moment the
coquette's part. I thank you for the compliment you pay me by these
assurances, but you are fully aware that I can never encourage a suit
that finds no response in my heart. I trust that no word or act of mine
has ever deceived you for one moment."

"No, Miss Huntington, you have ever been thus cold and impassive towards
me, ever turning a deaf ear to my prayer. Why, why can you not love me?"

"Nay, captain, we will not enter into particulars; it is needless, it is
worse than needless, and a matter that is exceedingly unpleasant to me.
I must earnestly beg, sir, that you will not again refer to this subject
under any circumstance."

"Your commands are law to me, Miss Huntington," answered the discomfited
lover, as he rose from the seat he had occupied by her side, and turned
partially away.

It was well he did so, for had she seen the demoniac expression of his
countenance as he struggled to control the vehemence of his feelings,
she would have feared that he might do either her or himself violence.

"May I not hope that years of fond attachment, years of continued
assiduity, may yet outweigh your indifference, Miss Huntington?" he said
earnestly.

"Indeed, indeed no. You do but pain me by this continuance of a subject
that--Ah, mother!" she said, interrupting herself, "I have been looking
at the captain's ship, yonder; is she not a noble craft? And how
daintily she floats upon the waters?"

"A ship is always a beautiful sight, my child; and especially so when
she bears the flag that we see flaunting gracefully from that vessel."

"When do you sail, captain?" asked Mrs. Huntington, who had just joined
her daughter on the piazza, and did not observe the officer's confusion.

"The ship rides by a single anchor, madam, and only waits her
commander," he replied, rather mechanically than otherwise, as he turned
his glance seaward.

"So soon? I had hoped you were to favor us with a longer stay," said she
mother.

The officer looked towards the daughter, as though he wished it had been
her that had expressed such a desire. But she still gazed at the distant
ship, and he saw no change in