“Well, they say now you’ve got well they can’t understand why you should go loafing about doin’ nothin’ or idling your time in London, instead of goin’ to sea.”
“Idlin’ my time!” exclaimed Fred with affected indignation. “How do they know I’m idlin’ my time? What if I was studyin’ to be a doctor or a parson?”
“Perhaps they’d say that was idlin’ your time, seein’ that you’re only a fisherman,” returned Isa, looking up in her lover’s face with a bright smile. “But tell me, Fred, why should you have any secret from me?”
“Because, dear lass, the thing that gives me so much pleasure and hope is not absolutely fixed, and I don’t want you to be made anxious. This much I will tell you, however: you know I passed my examination for skipper when I was home last time, and now, through God’s goodness, I have been offered the command of a smack. If all goes well, I hope to sail in her next week; then, on my return, I hope to—to take the happiest. Well, well, I’ll say no more about that, as we’re gettin’ near mother’s door. But tell me, Isa, has Uncle Martin been worrying mother again when I was away?”
“No. When he found out that you had got the money that was left to her, and had bought an annuity for her with it, he went away, and I’ve not seen him since.”
“That’s well. I’m glad of that.”
“But am I to hear nothing more about this smack, not even her name?”
“Nothing more just now, Isa. As to her name, it’s not yet fixed. But, trust me, you shall know all in good time.”
As they had now reached the foot of Mrs Martin’s stair, the subject was dropped.
They found the good woman in the act of supplying Granny Martin with a cup of tea. There was obvious improvement in the attic. Sundry little articles of luxury were there which had not been there before.