It was about the middle of the afternoon when the equipage of Commodore Trysail drove up. The old gentleman was a sailor, and not very particular when dealing with men, at least not always so, to polish either his language or his manners; but in the company of ladies he never forgot the respect due to them; he was mild and courteous, no matter how humble the individual or the circle to which he was introduced. Mrs. Morris was no stranger to the family; she had often visited them in their lonely home, and by her affable and kind manners had won their hearts.
No wonder, then, that the girls ran with such haste to welcome her, and conducted her into their new abode with feelings, if not of pride, at least of heart-felt pleasure. She kissed them as they met her at the door.
'I wish you joy, my dear good girls, with all my heart. Mrs. Oakum, I congratulate you on your entrance into such a pretty home; it is a sweet place; but it must be doubly sweet and precious to you under all the circumstances.'
Mrs. Oakum could not reply; tears alone responded to the kind greeting.
'But where is that noble fellow, Sam? I must call him so yet—where is he?'
'He has run away. Do you think, Mrs. Morris,' said Mary, 'he found the neighbors began to come in, and off he went.'
'Do you tell him for me, he's a pretty fellow; and that I shall expect a visit from him expressly in return for this.'
The Commodore had been detained at the door a moment, in offering his whole-soul congratulations to Sam's father. As he entered the room, Mrs. Morris formally introduced him to the mother and sisters. Bowing very low to Mrs. Oakum,
'Madam, I do not wonder that your feelings are excited; he is a noble boy, and you have every reason to be proud of him.'
'He has ever been a dear, good child, sir.'