More Cargoes

“No, she won’t,” said Dick grimly; “I wouldn’t have her now not if she asked me on her bended knee.”

“Why not?” said Raggett.

“I don’t want to marry that sort o’ girl,” said the other scornfully; “it’s cured me.”

“What about me, then?” said the unfortunate Raggett.

“Well, so far as I can see, it serves you right for mixing in other people’s business,” said Dick shortly. “Well, good-night, and good luck to you.”

To Mr. Raggett’s sore disappointment, he kept to his resolution, and being approached by Mr. Boom on his elderly friend’s behalf, was rudely frank to him.

“I’m a free man again,” he said blithely, “and I feel better than I’ve felt for ever so long. More manly.”

“You ought to think of other people,” said Mr. Boom severely; “think of poor old Raggett.”

“Well, he’s got a young wife out of it,” said Dick. “I dare say he’ll be happy enough. He wants somebody to help him spend his money.”

In this happy frame of mind he resumed his ordinary life, and when he encountered his former idol, met her with a heartiness and unconcern which the lady regarded with secret disapproval. He was now so sure of himself that, despite a suspicion of ulterior design on the part of Miss Boom, he even accepted an invitation to tea.

The presence of Mr. Raggett made it a slow and solemn function. Nobody with any feelings could eat with any appetite with that afflicted man at the table, and the meal passed almost in silence. Kate cleared the meal away, and the men sat at the open door with their pipes while she washed up in the kitchen.

“Me an’ Raggett thought o’ stepping down to the ‘Sailor’s’” said Mr. Boom, after a third application of his friend’s elbow.

“I’ll come with you,” said Dick.

“Well, we’ve got a little business to talk about,” said Boom confidentially; “but we shan’t be long. If you wait here, Dick, we’ll see you when we come back.”

“All right,” said Tarrell.

He watched the two old men down the road, and then, moving his chair back into the room, silently regarded the busy Kate.

“Make yourself useful,” said she brightly; “shake the tablecloth.”

Tarrell took it to the door, and having shaken it, folded it with much gravity, and handed it back.

“Not so bad for a beginner,” said Kate, taking it and putting it in a drawer. She took some needlework from another drawer, and, sitting down, began busily stitching.

“Wedding-dress?” inquired Tarrell, with an assumption of great ease.

“No, tablecloth!” said the girl, with a laugh. “You’ll want to know a little more before you get married.”

“Plenty o’ time for me,” said Tarrell; “I’m in no hurry.”

The girl put her work down and looked up at him.

“That’s right,” she said steadily. “I suppose you were rather surprised to hear I was going to get married?”

“A little.” said Tarrell; “there’s been so many after old Raggett, I didn’t think he’d ever be caught.”

“Oh!” said Kate.

“I daresay he’ll make a very good husband,” said Tarrell patronisingly. “I think you’ll make a nice couple. He’s got a nice home.”

“That’s why I’m going to marry him,” said Kate. “Do you think it’s wrong to marry a man for that?”

“That’s your business,” said Tarrell coldly; “speaking for myself, and not wishing to hurt your feelings, I shouldn’t like to marry a girl like that.”

“You mean you wouldn’t like to marry me?” said Kate softly.

She leaned forward as she spoke, until her breath fanned his face.

“That’s what I do mean,” said Tarrell, with a suspicion of doggedness in his voice.

“Not even if I asked you on my bended knees?” said Kate. “Aren’t you glad you’re cured?”

“Yes,” said Tarrell manfully.

“So am I,” said the girl; “and now that you are happy, just go down to the ‘Jolly Sailor’s,’ and make poor old Raggett happy too.”

“How?” ask Tarrell.

“Tell him that I have only been having a joke with him,” said Kate, surveying him with a steady smile. “Tell him that I overheard him and father talking one night, and that I resolved to give them both a lesson. And tell them that I didn’t think anybody could have been so stupid as they have been to believe in it.”

She leaned back in her chair, and, regarding the dumfounded Tarrell with a smile of wicked triumph, waited for him to speak, “Raggett, indeed!” she said disdainfully.

“I suppose,” said Tarrell at length, speaking very slowly, “my being stupid was no surprise to you?”

“Not a bit,” said the girl cheerfully.

“I’ll ask you to tell Raggett yourself,” said Tarrell, rising and moving towards the door. “I sha’n’t see him. Good-night.”

“Good-night,” said she. “Where are you going, then?”

There was no reply.

“Where are you going?” she repeated. Then a suspicion of his purpose flashed across her. “You’re not foolish enough to be going away?” she cried in dismay.

“Why not?” said Tarrell slowly.

“Because,” said Kate, looking down—“oh, because—well, it’s ridiculous. I’d sooner have you stay here and feel what a stupid you’ve been making of yourself. I want to remind you of it sometimes.”

“I don’t want reminding,” said Tarrell, taking Raggett’s chair; “I know it now.”

A RASH EXPERIMENT

The hands on the wharf had been working all Saturday night and well into the Sunday morning to finish the Foam, and now, at ten o’clock, with hatches down and freshly-scrubbed decks, the skipper and mate stood watching the tide as it rose slowly over the smooth Thames mud.

“What time’s she coming?” inquired the skipper, turning a lazy eye up at the wharf.