'Tom,' said the musical sister, 'I do wish you wouldn't try to pick up new airs. You can't do it. Why don't you keep to "Home, Sweet Home," or "In a Cottage near a Wood"——'
But, to give effect to this remonstrance, she had turned in her chair in which she was reading, and, in so doing, came in sight of the window, and the sea, and the new arrival there.
'Oh!' she exclaimed, 'what a beautiful large yacht!'
The youth at the window shrugged his shoulders.
'Well, you are a fool,' he said politely.
'Thank you,' she replied.
'I'll tell you what—it's a man-o'-war brig,' continued he, with an air of importance. 'And what's more, I hope the fellow knows where he's coming to. I don't see them taking any soundings; and the notion of bringing a man-o'-war in here——'
He went and got an opera-glass, and returned to the window. He would make observations; perhaps, if need were, he might put off in a small boat and offer to assist in the navigation of the ship.
'Young women,' he exclaimed, suddenly, 'a light strikes me. That's the Fly-by-night.'
'You pretend you can make out the ship's name at that distance,' said the eldest sister, with the slightest of smiles.