The captain looked fierce and angry, and Becky saw it.
“Well, all I know, he calls her his dear friend, and she calls him her dear friend, and they write to each other; and that’s the way lovers do—don’t they?”
The captain stared out of the window, moving uneasily in his seat, snapping his teeth together very often, all of which Becky saw and took advantage of. A wild scheme had crept into the girl’s head. Harry and Harry’s mother had done much for her; it was time she should repay it. The captain had a wilder scheme in his head, and was in exactly the right mood to combat the proposed alliance.
“He marry this girl! I’d like to see him attempt it! I’d like to see him attempt it!”
This came involuntarily from the captain’s mouth after a very long silence.
“Why, captain,” said Becky, “she’s a splendid girl, and so smart with her pencil! And if they love each other,”—here she gave a gulp,—“I’m sure it’s only right that they should marry. And then Harry’s so good! O, it would be wicked to prevent his happiness. You won’t—will you, captain?”
The captain said nothing, but grew more and more uneasy; said nothing, but thought, thought hard. What could he do? He had cast the boy off; he was his own master. He had no power to accomplish the wish that was in his mind.
“O, if you only knew how good and kind Harry has been to me, you would never desire to break his heart.”
Here Becky broke down, and commenced sobbing. The captain started, put his arm about Becky, and drew her head to his breast, still looking out of the window, and saying nothing.