"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. They’ll know. It was a dead calm. "One whom you may perhaps have forgotten," replied the stranger, "but who can never forget the kindness he experienced at your hands, or at those of your excellent husband.
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