hand and arm, he wended his way slowly along the
road that led to his mother's house. Perhaps we should style it her
attic, for she could claim only part of the house in which she dwelt.
From a quaint gable window of this abode she had a view of the sea over
the houses in front.

Part of Fred's route lay along the banks of the Yare, not far from its
mouth. At a spot where there were many old anchors and cables, old and
new trawl-beams, and sundry other seafaring rusty and tarry objects, the
young fisherman met a pretty young girl, who stopped suddenly, and, with
her large blue eyes expressing unspeakable surprise, exclaimed, "Fred!"

The youth sprang forward, seized the girl with his uninjured hand, and
exclaimed, "Isa!" as he drew her towards him.

"Fred--not here. Behave!" said Isa, holding up a warning finger.

Fred consented to behave--with a promise, however, that he would make up
for it at a more fitting time and place.

"But what is the matter!" asked Isa, with an anxious look, laying her
pretty little hands on the youth's arm.

Yes, you need not smile, reader; it is not a perquisite of ladies to
have pretty little hands. Isa's hands were brown, no doubt, like her
cheeks, owing to exposure and sunshine, and they were somewhat roughened
by honest toil; but they were small and well-shaped, with taper fingers,
and their touch was very tender as she clasped them on her lover's arm.

"Nothing serious," replied the youth lightly; "only an accident with a
fish-bone, but it has got to be pretty bad for want of attention; an'
besides I'm out o' sorts somehow. No physic, you see, or doctors in our
fleet, like the lucky dogs of the Short-Blue. I've been knocked up more
or less for some weeks past, so they sent me home to be looked after.
But I won't need either physic or doctor now."

"No? why not?" asked the girl, with a simple look.

"Cause the sight o' your sweet face does away with the need of either."

"Don't talk nonsense, Fred."

"If that's nonsense," returned the fisherman, "you'll never hear me talk
sense again as long as I live. But how about mother, Isa? Is she
well!"

"Quite well. I have just left her puzzling herself over a letter from
abroad that's so ill-written that it would bother a schoolmaster to read
it. I tried to read it, but couldn't. You're a good scholar, Fred, so
you have come just in time to help her. But won't she be surprised to
see you!"

Thus conversing, and walking