“Are you?” said the merman, coldly, and gazing after the ship sailing away from him.
“Why, of course. We’ve all been so anxious about you. Why haven’t you written? Your grandfather has tried every spell he could think of, but it all seemed of no use. The dear old gentleman is almost sick, and so miserable about you that he has had no heart to finish his work, even though the Baltic merman has come out with another pamphlet. Do come home.”
Now as his friend spoke our merman felt at once how selfish and ungrateful he had been. But his passion for his wooden nymph had so altered his nature that instead of being sorry he was only angry with himself, and pretended that he was angry with his friend.
“I suppose I am old enough to be my own master,” he said, haughtily.
“Why, what has come over you?” said his friend. “I’m sure it was natural I should come to look for you. If I’d been lost, wouldn’t you have tried to find me?”
The merman felt more and more ashamed of himself and grew crosser and crosser. “Excuse me,” he said, coldly, “but I have business that I must attend to. I don’t choose to discuss the subject;” and he swam away after The Sea-nymph.
“But look here!” said his friend, coming after him. “I must tell you something. I’m going to be married to your youngest sister, and I want you to come and be best man. The girls are breaking their hearts about you.”
“Oh, I dare say,” said the merman with a sneer. He had always been a most affectionate brother, but now he had no room in his heart for anything but his wooden image.
“And there’s a dear little girl next door that will be glad to see you. She’s to be bridesmaid, of course. It’s my belief she likes you. The sweetest mermaid in the sea, she is, except your sister.”
“She’s well enough for a mermaid,” said the merman, impatiently, for the ship was going farther and farther away.