“And I hope you'll be the same,” said Mr. Green. “It's my wish that you should make yourself quite comfortable here—till you go to sea again.”
“Thankee,” said Mr. Letts; “but I don't think I shall go to sea any more. Ship's carpenter is my trade, and I've been told more than once that I should do better ashore. Besides, I don't want to lose mother and Betty again.”
He placed his arm round the girl's waist, and, drawing her head on to his shoulder, met with a blank stare the troubled gaze of Mrs. Green.
“I'm told there's wonderful openings for carpenters in Australia,” said Mr. Green, trying to speak in level tones. “Wonderful! A good carpenter can make a fortune there in ten years, so I'm told.”
Mr. Letts, with a slight wink at Mrs. Green and a reassuring squeeze with his left arm, turned an attentive ear.
“O' course, there's a difficulty,” he said, slowly, as Mr. Green finished a vivid picture of the joys of carpentering in Australia.
“Difficulty?” said the other.
“Money to start with,” explained Mr. Letts. “It's no good starting without money. I wonder how much this house and furniture would fetch? Is it all mine, mother?”
“M-m-most of it,” stammered Mrs. Green, gazing in a fascinated fashion at the contorted visage of her husband.
“All except a chair in the kitchen and three stair-rods,” said Betty.