“If ever woman was meet for the kingdom of heaven when she died it was Mace’s mother—my second mother!” said Gil, gravely.
“Amen to that!” said the founder. “Thank you, Gil—thank you—God bless you for those words,” he continued, with his voice trembling; and he seized and wrung the young man’s hand, which warmly pressed his in return.
“Mace was a child of four then, Master Cobbe,” said Gil, “and we have been like brother and sister ever since.”
“Yes, yes, quite true,” said the founder.
“Then why do you say that I am growing too intimate with your child?”
“Because,” said the founder, laying his hand upon the young man’s arm, “you are growing now less like brother and sister, and it is time it was stopped.”
“Why?” said Gil, gravely.
“Because, Gil Carr, the intimacy of two people like you might lead to feelings that end in marriage, and that could never be.”
“I do not see why not,” said Gil, quietly.
“No,” said the founder, “but I do! And now listen. I like you, Gil, and I’m going to give you a bit of advice, both about this matter and your ship, for we are old friends, and I should not like you and yours to come to harm.”