"That's not the way to speak of a lady," said Jem, hotly.
The offended captain regarded him somewhat sourly; then his face changed, and he got up from his chair and stood before his son with consternation depicted on every feature.
"You don't mean to tell me," he said, slowly; "you don't mean to tell me that you're thinking anything of Kate Nugent?"
"Why not?" demanded the other, defiantly; "why shouldn't I?"
Captain Hardy, whistling softly, made no reply, but still stood eyeing him.
"I thought there was some other reason for your consideration besides 'ordinary decent ideas,'" he said, at last. "When did it come on? How long have you had it?"
Mr. Hardy, jun., in a studiously unfilial speech, intimated that these pleasantries were not to his taste.
"No, of course not," said the captain, resuming his seat. "Well, I'm sorry if it's serious, Jem, but I never dreamt you had any ideas in that quarter. If I had I'd have given old Nugent the best bunk on the ship and sung him to sleep myself. Has she given you any encouragement?"
"Don't know," said Jem, who found the conversation awkward.
"Extraordinary thing," said the captain, shaking his head, "extraordinary. Like a play."