“Come, now, Mr. Blake; you’re not very complimentary. After surviving my cooking all these weeks, don’t you think I might do, at a pinch, for a poor man’s wife!”
“No, Jenny!” he protested, trying to draw back. “You oughtn’t to decide now. When you get back among your friends, things may look different. Think of your society friends! Wait till you see me with other men–gentlemen! I’m just a rough, uncultured, ordinary–”
“Hush!” she cried, and she again placed her hand on his mouth. “You sha’n’t say such cruel things about Tom–my Tom–the man I trust–that I–”
Her arms slipped about his neck, and her eyes shone up into his with tender radiance.
“Don’t!” he begged hoarsely. “’T ain’t fair! I–I can’t stand it!”
“The man I love!” she whispered.
He crushed her to him in his great arms.
“My little girl!–dear little girl!” he repeated, and he pressed his lips to her hair.
She snuggled her face closer against his shoulder, and replied in a very small voice, “I–I suppose you know that ship captains can m-marry people.”
“But I haven’t even a job yet!” he exclaimed. “Suppose your father–”