“I don’t like Burwood, and I do like you,” said Neil, smiling. “Come, will not that satisfy you?”
“Almost. You will fight for me, then, Neil?”
“I don’t think that there will be any occasion to fight for you. I think time is on your side. Lieutenant Beck’s chance was very small with my father; but suppose one Captain Beck, a young officer who had distinguished himself by his seamanship in Her Majesty’s service, came and renewed his proposal for my sister’s hand, surely he would have a better chance of success.”
“Neil, old fellow,” cried Beck, facing round and grasping the young surgeon’s hand, “I don’t wonder that you are getting to be a big fellow at your hospital.”
“Nonsense! Who says I am?”
“Oh, I’ve heard. I wish I were as clever as you are. I came here feeling so bad that life didn’t seem worth living, and in a few minutes you’ve shown things to me in such a different light that—”
“You think it is worth living and sharing with someone else,” cried Neil.
“My dear old fellow,” cried the sailor, with tears in his eyes.
“And you will go off like a man and join your ship?”
“Yes,” cried Beck, grasping his friend’s hand, and speaking firmly, “like a man.”