"Why, Cap'n Kendrick, I'm not going to
sea. What do you mean?"

"I mean--well, I meant--er--oh, I was speakin' in parables, like a
minister, you know. I was wishin' you and George a happy voyage through
life, that's all."

"George! Why, I am going away with my mother. George isn't.... Why,
Cap'n Kendrick, you don't think--you can't think that George and I
are--are----"

"Eh? Aren't you? I thought----"

She shook her head. "I told you once," she said. "I mean it. I like
George well enough--sometimes I like him better than at others. But--oh,
why can't you believe me?"

He was staring at her with a gaze so intent, an expression so strange
that she could not meet it. She turned away.

"Please don't say any more about it," she begged.

"But--but George is--he has counted on it. He told me----"

"Don't. I don't know what he told you. I hope nothing foolish. He and I
understand each other. Last night, when he came, I told him ... There, I
must go, Cap'n Kendrick. I have left mother alone too long already."

"Wait!" he shouted it. "You mean ... You aren't goin' to marry George
Kent--_ever_?"

"Why, no, of course not!"

"Elizabeth--oh, my soul, I--I'm crazy, I guess--but--Elizabeth, could
you---- No, you couldn't, I know.... But _am_ I crazy? Could you--do
you--Elizabeth, if you ... _Stop_!"

She was on her way to the door.

He sprang after her, caught her hand.

"Elizabeth," he cried, the words tumbling over each other, "I'm
thirty-eight years old. I'm a sailor, that's all. I'm not much of a man,
as men go maybe, sort of a failure so far. But--with you to work for and
live for, I--I guess I could be--I feel as if I could be almost
anything. Could you give me that chance? Could you?"

She did not answer; did not even look at him. He dropped her hand.

"Of course not," he sighed. "Just craziness was what it was. Forgive me,
my girl. And--forget it, if you can."

She did not speak. Slowly, and still without looking at him, she walked
out of the kitchen. The outer door closed behind her. He put his hand to
his eyes, breathed deeply, and returning to the chair by the table, sat
heavily down.

"A failure," he groaned aloud. "Lord Almighty, _what_ a failure!"

He had not heard the door open, but he did hear her step, and felt her
arms about his neck and her kiss upon his cheek.

"Don't, don't, don't!" she sobbed. "Oh, my dear, don't say that. Don't
ever say it again. Oh, you mustn't."

And he did not. For