“And you haven’t given up hope, I suppose?”
“Not while life lasts,” said the other, studying the carpet.
“That’s the way I feel,” said the old woman energetically. “What a surprise it’ll be when you meet him!”
“For both of them,” said the girl.
“It’s five years last May—the 20th of May,” said the old woman, “since I last saw my poor husband. He—”
“It can’t be of any interest to this gentleman, mother,” interposed the girl.
“I’m very much interested, ma’am,” said the skipper defiantly; “besides, when I’m looking for poor Jackson, who knows I mightn’t run up against the other.”
“Ah! who knows but what you might,” said the old woman. “There’s one gentleman looking for him now—Mr. Glover, my daughter’s husband that is to be.”
There was a long pause, then the skipper, by dint of combining his entire stock of Christianity and politeness, found speech. “I hope he finds him,” he said slowly.
“All that a man can do he’s doing,” said the old lady. “He’s a commercial traveller by trade, and he gets about a great deal in the way of business.”