"It would be mighty lonesome for some men if they acted on that idea and kept out of them," I answered.
We were all alone by the mizzen, the captains having gone below with Mrs.
Sackett to show her the interior of the ship.
The young girl looked up, and I fancied there was just a sparkle of amusement in her eyes.
"Do you really think so?" she said. "Can't men find more useful occupations than following the sea,—that is, those who are lonely?"
"Some men are fitted to do certain things in this world and unfitted for others. It would be hard on those whose lines are laid out like that for them. You don't think a man follows the sea after his first voyage because he likes it, do you?" I said.
"Then for Heaven's sake why don't they stay ashore?" she demanded.
"Would you care for a man who would stay out of a thing that he was fitted for, simply because it was hard?" I asked her.
She blushed and turned away.
"I was not speaking of caring for any one, Mr. Rolling," she replied. And then she added quickly, "I think we will go below and see what they have for us."
"No, wait just one minute, Jennie," I said, taking her hand and stopping her gently without attracting the attention of the men forward. "This is the first time we've had a chance to talk of ourselves in two months. I want to ask you if you really meant that?"