“Not before we sail at three in the morning.” said the mate, glibly; “perhaps not then. I often have to take the ship out without him. He’s been away six weeks at a stretch before now.”
“Well, we’ll stay here till he does come,” said the elder lady. “I’ll have his cabin, and my step-daughter’ll have to put up with your bed.”
“If you’re not gone by the time we start, I shall have to have you put off,” said Fraser.
“Those of us who live longest’ll see the most,” said Mrs. Tipping, calmly.
An hour or two passed, the mate sitting smoking with a philosophy which he hoped the waiting mariner at the “Admiral Cochrane” would be able to imitate. He lit the lamp at last, and going on deck, ordered the cook to prepare supper.
Mother and daughter, with feelings of gratitude, against which they fought strongly, noticed that the table was laid for three, and a little later, in a somewhat awkward fashion, they all sat down to the meal together.
“Very good beef,” said Mrs. Tipping, politely.
“Very nice,” said her daughter, who was ex-changing glances with the mate. “I suppose you’re very comfortable here, Mr. Fraser?”
The mate sighed. “It’s all right when the old man’s away,” he said, deceitfully. “He’s got a dreadful temper.”
“I hope you didn’t get into trouble through my coming aboard the other night,” said Miss Tipping, softly.