"Law, Jerry, how you did frighten me," exclaimed Mary Ann.
As the effects of love at first sight were somewhat increased by the punch he had imbibed, Thompson was not at all hurt at being called Jerry, but he advanced towards the blushing maiden, and saying she looked like an angel, proceeded to kiss her in a vigorous manner.
"For shame!" said the delighted girl. "Have done now, Jerry, or I'll scream."
"You rogue, you," observed Mrs. Shever. "Why you'd kiss me if I didn't stop you. I wish Shever would come in."
The active sailor proceeded at once to demonstrate his admiration of the latter speaker, evidently having little fear of the boatswain's returning just then, and a loud smack on the face, administered "more in sorrow than in anger" announced the completion of the outrage.
"There never was such a shocking man," giggled the matron.
"Don't you try it on again!" cried Mary Ann, in a most provoking manner.
Despite her pleading, Jerry renewed his attention, and as they parted, boldly declared that "he'd have her if she'd have him."
Mary Ann saw him out of the house, and as he kissed her for the last time, quietly murmured, "Jerry, dear, I'll marry you whenever you are ready."
Happy pair! they had now a bright future to anticipate: both could dream of it. It was a pleasant and inexpensive luxury, and about as likely to be realized as such visions usually are. However, "they've done it now," as the boatswain observed, when his wife informed him of the fact of Mary Ann's engagement. "That's what comes of introducing people of low manners into society. There'll be a 'mess-alliance,' and all the parties will be sorry for it when it's too late." Mr. Shever was evidently of opinion that Jerry was far beneath Mary Ann's notice, and possibly forgot that when he married her sister he was only what he now termed a common sailor; while his wife, seeing in Thompson, a good-hearted, merry fellow, woman-like, favoured his suit.