"Well; but that's not the right word."
"What is the right word, then?" asked the captain with affected sternness, for, although by nature disinclined to admit that he could be wrong, he had no objection to be put right by Minnie.
"Die because a woman's f——," said Minnie, prompting him.
"F——, 'funny?'" guessed the captain.
"No; it's not 'funny'," cried Minnie, laughing heartily.
"Of course not," assented the captain, "it could not be 'funny' nohow, because 'funny' don't rhyme with 'despair'; besides, lots o' women ain't funny a bit, an' if they was, that's no reason why a man should die for 'em; what is the word, lass?"
"What am I?" asked Minnie, with an arch smile, as she passed her fingers through the clustering masses of her beautiful hair.
"An angel, beyond all doubt," said the gallant captain, with a burst of sincerity which caused Minnie to blush and then to laugh.
"You're incorrigible, captain, and you are so stupid that it's of no use trying to teach you."
Mrs. Brand—who listened to this conversation with an expression of deep anxiety on her meek face, for she could not get rid of her first idea that her brother was going to marry—here broke in with the question,—