Despite himself his spirits rose as he walked. It was an ideal spring morning, cool and sunny. The short turf by the side of the road was fragrant under his heel, and a light wind stirred the blueness of the sea. On the beach below two grizzled men of restful habit were endeavouring to make an old boat waterproof with red and green paint. A long figure approaching slowly from the opposite direction broke into a pleasant smile as he drew near and quickened his pace to meet him. “You’re out early,” said Hardy, as the old man stopped and turned with him. “’Ave to be, sir,” said Mr. Wilks, darkly; “out early and ’ome late, and more often than not getting my dinner out. That’s my life nowadays.” [Illustration: “Can’t you let her see that her attentions are undesirable?”] “Can’t you let her see that her attentions are undesirable?” inquired Hardy, gravely. “I can’t be rude to a woman,” said the steward, with a melancholy smile; “if I could, my life would ha’ been very different. She’s always stepping across to ask my advice about Teddy, or something o’ that sort. All last week she kept borrowing my frying-pan, so at last by way of letting ’er see I didn’t like it I went out and bought ’er one for herself. What’s the result? Instead o’ being offended she went out and bought me a couple o’ neck-ties. When I didn’t wear ’em she pretended it was because I didn’t like the colour, and she went and bought two more. I’m wearing one now.” He shook his head ruefully, and Hardy glanced at a tie which would have paled the glories of a rainbow. For some time they walked along in silence. “I’m going to pay my respects to Cap’n Nugent this afternoon,” said Mr. Wilks, suddenly. “Ah,” said the other. “I knew what it ’ud be with them two on the same ship,” continued Mr. Wilks. “I didn’t say nothing when you was talking to Miss Kate, but I knew well enough.” “Ah,” said Hardy again. There was no mistaking the significance of the steward’s remarks, and he found them somewhat galling. It was all very well to make use of his humble friend, but he had no desire to discuss his matrimonial projects with him. “It’s a great pity,” pursued the unconscious Mr. Wilks, “just as everything seemed to be going on smoothly; but while there’s life there’s ’ope.” “That’s a smart barge over there,” said Hardy, pointing it out. Mr. Wilks nodded. “I shall keep my eyes open this afternoon,” he said reassuringly. “And if I get a chance of putting in a word it’ll be put in. Twenty-nine years I sailed with the cap’n, and if there’s anybody knows his weak spots it’s me.” He stopped as they reached the town and said “good-bye.” He pressed the young man’s hand sympathetically, and a wink of intense artfulness gave point to his last remark. “There’s always Sam Wilks’s cottage,” he said, in a husky whisper; “and if two of ’is friends should ’appen to meet there, who’d be the wiser?”