"Go on, dearie," replied the now mollified old lady, firing away at her knitting in order to give vent to her feelings.
"Well, mother, I love Cousin Nelly as I never loved a gal afore, only once, and she, poor thing, a Chinee."
"You was allus soft-hearted as a boy," put in the not at all astonished dame.
"Well," she is dead, and I hope in a better world along with poor Polly and Tom—little Tom's mother, you know."
"Oh, I know," said the dame, working more furiously than ever at her knitting.
"When I came home I little thought, arter all the girls I've been soft over, that I should ever become so desperately fond of Cousin Nelly. But it's a case, and but for you, I'd go to sea again, as I can't marry her."
"Can't marry her? why not, in the name of goodness?"
Jerry informed his mother that he believed it was "agin the law for him to marry his cousin."
"Bless us, is that all?" coolly observed his mother.
"That all! Well, I should think that's enough. I suppose you don't want me to break the law, do you, and be had up for bigamy?"