"You see," he would argue, "on board a ship one gets only the one side of human nature. Sailors may differ a bit one from another, but they can all be divided into two or three classes—the steady honest fellow who tries to do his work well; the reckless fellow who is ready to do his work, but is up to every sort of mischief and devilment; and the lazy, loafing fellow who neglects his duty whenever he possibly can, and is always shamming sick in order to get off it. Some day or other I shall settle on shore and practise there, and I want to learn something about the people I shall have to deal with; besides, there's nothing more amusing than looking on at a ball when you have no idea of dancing yourself. It's astonishing what a lot of human nature you see if you do but keep your wits about you."
In the course of the evening he came up to the first-lieutenant.
"Who is that man you have just been talking to, Gulston? I have been watching him for some time. He has not been dancing, but has been standing in corners looking on."
"He is Mr. Carne, doctor; a cousin, or rather a nephew, of our hostess."
"Is he the brother of that pretty girl you have been dancing with?"
The lieutenant nodded.
"Then I am sorry for her," the surgeon said, bluntly.
"Sorry! What for?"
The surgeon answered by another question.
"Do you know anything about the family, Gulston?"