“And yet they’ve sent you to sea to get out of his way,” said the mate meditatively. “Well, the best thing you can do”—His hardihood failed him at the pitch.
“Go on,” said the girl.
“Well, it’s this way,” said the mate, coughing; “they’ve sent you to sea to get you out of this fellow’s way, so if you fall in love with somebody on the ship they’ll send you home again.”
“So they will,” said the girl eagerly. “I’ll pretend to fall in love with that nice-looking sailor you call Harry. What a lark!”
“I shouldn’t do that,” said the mate gravely.
“Why not?” said the girl.
“’Tisn’t discipline,” said the mate very firmly; “it wouldn’t do at all. He’s before the mast.”
“Oh, I see,” remarked Miss Alsen, smiling scornfully.
“I only mean pretend, of course,” said the mate, colouring. “Just to oblige you.”
“Of course,” said the girl calmly. “Well, how are we to be in love?”