“But she can’t take notice from Mrs. Banks,” said Flower, “it’ll have to come from you.” “All in good time,” said Captain Barber, wiping his face. “As I’ve done all this for you, I was going to let you tell her.” “_Me!_” said Flower, with emphasis. “Certainly,” said Captain Barber, with more emphasis still. “Just get her to yourself on the quiet and allude to it casual. Then after that bring the subject up when I’m in the room. As it’s to make room for you and your wife, you might fix the date for ’er to go. That’ll be the best way to do it.” “It seems to me it is rather hard on her,” said his nephew, compassionately; “perhaps we had better wait a little longer.” “Certainly not,” said Captain Barber, sharply; “don’t I tell you your banns are up. You’re to be asked in church first time next Sunday. You’ll both live with me as agreed, and I’m going to make over three o’ the cottages to you and a half-share in the ship. The rest you’ll have to wait for. Why don’t you look cheerful? You ought to.” “I’m cheerful enough,” said Flower, recovering himself. “I’m thinking of you.” “Me?” said his uncle. “You and Mrs. Church,” said his nephew. “So far as I can see, you’ve committed yourself.” “I can manage,” said Uncle Barber. “I’ve always been master in my own house. Now you’d better step round and see the bride that is to be.” “Well, you be careful,” said his nephew, warningly. “I’m coming, too,” said Captain Barber, with some haste; “there’s no need to stay and wait for trouble. When you go into the house, come back as though you’d forgotten something, and sing out to me that you want me to come too—hard enough for ’er to hear, mind.” CHAPTER VIII. The bewildered master of the _Foam_ spent the remainder of the time at Seabridge in a species of waking nightmare. A grey-haired dressmaker and a small apprentice sat in the Banks’ best parlour, and from a chaos of brown paper patterns stuck over with pins a silk dress of surpassing beauty began slowly to emerge. As a great concession Flower was allowed to feel the material, and even to rub it between his finger and thumb in imitation of Captain Barber, who was so prone to the exercise that a small piece was cut for his especial delectation. A colour of unwonted softness glowed in the cheek of Elizabeth and an air of engaging timidity tempered her intercourse with Flower, who had to run the gauntlet of much friendly criticism on the part of his fair neighbours. Up to the time of sailing for London again the allusion to Mrs. Church’s departure, desired by Captain Barber, had not been made by the younger man. The housekeeper was still in possession, and shook hands with him at the front door as he limped slowly off with Miss Banks and his uncle to go down to the schooner. His foot was still very bad, so bad that he stumbled three times on the way to the quay despite the assistance afforded by the arm of his betrothed.