“While you have been gone, it has been my wish still to watch over her happiness, and to guard her in every way. She can tell you that from the day I learned how your success had forever deprived me of hope, I have never breathed a word, nor done a single action which has spoken of any sentiment of which you could disapprove.”
“I have no doubt of it,” replied Captain Hepburn, frankly; “and allow me to thank you for your many acts of kindness. But you must also permit me to say, that it is for the sake of your own happiness alone, I can form any wishes regarding the extinction of your attachment to Miss Duncan. No doubt it is better for you that it should sink into friendly feeling; otherwise your sentiments toward her, though they may interest, could not disturb me. Her manner of receiving them is all that concerns me, and that has my most entire approval!”
Charles Huyton colored deeply, and bit his lip in silence.
“Excuse my frankness,” continued the sailor, “I do not intend to hurt your feelings; I only want to assure you, that I entertain no jealousy or mistrust, and can feel none, while she
continues what she is. But you must understand, that my confidence does not arise from your refraining to seek her love, but from her own rectitude and delicacy. Your honorable intentions I have no right to doubt; but my happiness is not dependent on your honor, nor on that of any other man. If she could not guard her own, your forbearance and generosity would avail me little.”
“Of course! of course!” said Charles, eagerly, having recovered his composure and complexion; “in her you must have perfect confidence; I hope you may have the same in me. You may, perhaps, be leaving her again; her father’s health is failing fast; in the event of his decease the daughters must leave their present home, and I shudder to think of the distress which will befall them. Give me permission at such a time, or in any other moment of trouble, to watch over them with a brother’s regard, and extend to them a brother’s care. Let me plead your authority for interesting myself in their welfare, and doing whatever may be within my power to comfort and protect them.”
“Thank you,” said Captain Hepburn, quietly, in reply to Mr. Huyton’s earnest enthusiasm. “I am obliged to acknowledge the same thing. Mr. Duncan’s health is, I fear, failing rapidly; and sorrow is probably in store for them on that account. She will suffer greatly.”
“And will you authorize me to do what I wish; the little that is in my power to protect or shield them in trouble, to comfort and befriend them?”
“You can hardly need my authority, Mr. Huyton, to enable you to act the part of a friend, so far as the usages of society allow. Beyond this, of course, you can not wish to go. Where the world has placed its ban on incurring obligation, or accepting favors, there it is not only prudent but proper not to trespass.”
“Oh, my dear sir, the usages of society are narrow and restricted; the ban of the world is cold and cruel; they are invented to excuse selfish indolence, and silence the claims of the