“I should be very pleased to show you over, ma’am,” he said politely.
The mother hesitated; then she rose, and accepting the mate’s assistance, clambered on to the side of the steamer, and, supported by his arms, sprang to the deck and followed him below.
“Very nice,” she said, nodding approvingly, as the mate did the honours. “Very nice.”
“It’s nice and roomy for a little craft like ours,” said the mate, as he drew a stone bottle from a locker and poured out a couple of glasses of stout. “Try a little beer, ma’am.”
“What you must think o’ that girl o’ mine I can’t think,” murmured the lady, taking a modest draught.
“The young,” said the mate, who had not quite reached his twenty-fifth year, “are often like that.”
“It spoils her,” said her mother. “She’s a good-looking girl, too, in her way.”
“I don’t see how she can help being that,” said the mate.
“Oh, get away with you,” said the lady pleasantly. “She’ll get fat like me as she gets older.”
“She couldn’t do better,” said the mate tenderly.