There were no children from the marriage and old Worthington proved a worthless drunken fellow, and, when in his cups, gave way to all manner of extravagances.
His jealous, uproarious disposition was fully manifested upon every possible occasion when ashore.
When drunk he would lie on the sofa and sing uproarious songs all night, to the infinite disgust of fellow lodgers.
When, perhaps, only half inebriated, and tempted as usual by jealousy, he would toss the furniture about and break all the crockery.
So that, everything considered, his absence was far more preferable than his presence.
Hence, when the news arrived that the barque “Columbo” had grounded in a gale, on the Florida Reefs, with the loss of all hands, Dame Worthington gave vent to her feelings in a few sobs and a fainting fit, but more than this she betrayed little of that grief which might have been expected from a loved and cherished wife.
Her only true and fast friend through life was, as he always had been, old Sir Richard Warbeck.
He furnished a private hotel for her, the management of which fully occupied her time and brought in much money.
But now that Charley Warbeck was married and settled, she seemed in part satisfied, and looked even younger than ever.
But still she fretted much for Ned Warbeck, who was at sea, for of the two youths she loved him much the best.