"Yes, sir," said Appleby quietly. "At Singapore. I can only just remember them. I was sent back to England when I was very young—and never saw either of them again."
Mr. Niven noticed the self-control in the lad's face as well as the slight tremble in his voice which would not be hidden. It was also if somewhat impassive a brave young face, and there was a steadiness that pleased him in the grave, grey eyes, he wished his own son looked as capable of facing the world alone.
"And you would still like to go to sea? It is a very hard life," he said.
Appleby smiled. "Isn't everything a little hard, sir, when you have no friends or money?"
"Well," said Mr. Niven dryly, "it not infrequently is, and I found it out at your age, though not many youngsters do. Who taught it you?"
Appleby looked a trifle confused. "I," he said slowly, "don't quite know—but it seems to make things a little easier now. Of course I did want to go to sea, but I know it's out of the question."
The merchant looked at him curiously. "You will probably be very thankful by and by, but hadn't you better go back to the others? We'll have a talk again."
Appleby went out to take part in a game, and Mr. Niven sat looking straight before him thoughtfully until his wife came in.
"They are getting on excellently, and I am glad the affair is a success, because it is difficult to please young people now-a-days, and I want Chriss to have only pleasant memories to carry away with him," she said.
She glanced towards the doorway with a little wistfulness in her eyes as Chriss passed by holding himself very erect while a laughing girl glanced up at him, and Mr. Niven guessed her thoughts.