“But I’m in sympathy with my father!” she cried.
“That’s right for you, Beth. I’d think less of you if you felt any other way.”
“If only Mr. McGowan would go to him!”
“Let’s see if I get the hull drift of your argument. You say that you think your father is right, and the minister is wrong. That being your conviction you think the minister otter go to him and do a little apologizing. Well, he won’t. What he’s done is just as right to him as what your father thinks he’d otter done is right to your dad. To try to get ’em together would be like trying to mix ’ile 145 and water, both of ’em good enough in their place, but when you try to mix ’em what you get ain’t one nor t’other, and sp’iles both. Cal’late we’d best leave ’em as they are.”
“I didn’t mean that Mr. McGowan should go to Father and apologize. That would be too much like all of the others before him. But I did think you might suggest some other way to bring them together before things get worse.”
“Beth, I’d like to accommodate you, if that’s what you’re asking of me, but if Mack McGowan had chosen any other way than the one he took, I’d cut him adrift, sartin as death.”
The seaman felt the girl at his side stiffen and tremble against his arm as she turned from him. Despair seized him.
“Forgive me, Beth, for making you cry like that. I ain’t nothing but a rough old sailor, and can’t say things as they’d otter be said. Come, it ain’t wuth crying over. What I meant was that I’d have disowned him, because I’d have known he was going contrary-wise to what he thought was right.”
She trembled more violently than before. Too miserable for words, he seized her and turned her about. He was amazed to find no tears in her eyes.