"I prefer it," said Mr. Pengelly.
"Oh," explained Ben, "present company always excepted, o' course. I wish you joy."
"Thank ye," the lady answered graciously. "You shall drink the same by and by in a dish o' tea; which I reckon will suit ye best this morning," she added eyeing him. "O.P., put on the kettle."
Ben Jope winced and attempted to turn the subject. "What's your cargo, this trip?" he asked cheerfully.
"I didn't write," she went on, ignoring the question. "O.P. took me so sudden."
"Oh, Sarah!" Mr. Pengelly expostulated.
"You did; you know you did, you rogue!"
Mr. Pengelly took her amorous glance and turned to us. "It seems like a dream," he said, and went out with the kettle.
The lady resumed her business-like air. "We sail for Looe next tide. It's queer now, your turning up like this."
"Providential. I came o' purpose, though, to look ye up."