Having concluded the performance, which was the result of long study on her part, and much patience on that of her music mistress, the boatswain's widow returned to the sofa, and, notwithstanding the entreaty of her visitor, wisely declined to repeat what he called the ceremony. Now, Mrs. Shever wanted to bring Jerry to a declaration; and, as she had invited Mary Ann and her husband to return to supper, having no doubt but that Mr. Thompson would propose to her before they arrived, began to get a little fidgetty, so, in order to lead him on, she asked why he had called upon her. "Well, you see, my dear Mrs. Shever, wot with that poor gal a fainting in my cabin this morning--" "Oh, false man, false man!" murmured the lady, bashfully reclining her head upon his shoulder. "No, marm, I were not false." "I know that, I know that. You are too noble, too generous to be false. It was her own fault." "No, it warn't. How could she help losing her husband?" "Oh," cried Mrs. Shever, seeing she had made a mistake, "of course she couldn't help it, poor soul." "Well, first that occurred, and made me feel as unhappy as if she had been my own wife." "You ain't married, are you?" exclaimed the buxom widow, raising her head in alarm. "Why, bless your kind heart, no. I've come here to ask your advice. I find Mary Ann hasn't kept; so, knowing you are a motherly sort of a soul, I come to ask you what you would advise me to do." Mrs. Shever did not much relish the term "motherly sort of a soul;" but, relying upon her powers of entanglement, she let him run on. "I'm young and have good prospects, and all I want is to meet with a girl who is honest and good, and who will be as true to me as I will be to her. I've got a first-rate berth on shore, and can afford to keep a wife, so I means to have one. I have loved a woman, who is now better off, in such a way as I shall never love again." Here Jerry's eye moistened a little. "But I promise that whoever I gets married to now I will stick to, and do my best to make her happy. But one thing I must bargain for. I must take care of my little boy, and she must be one as will look kindly on him." "I'll forgive you that," cried the delighted widow. "Oh, Jerry, there ain't many men like you. The boy will not stand in the way." "When his poor father dies--" "I hope he'll be spared many years. Oh, Jerry, don't talk about dying upon such a happy occasion as this," cried the sympathetic woman, the tears streaming down her face. "But, my dear creature, we must look forward to it; life is short, and we must prepare for such things;" saying which he drew forth his bandana, and gently wiped her eyes. "I've promised to be a father to poor little Tom, and I'll keep my word; and my wife must be a mother to him." "She will, she will do that," sobbed the happy one through her tears, although she inwardly hoped the child was old enough to walk, as she hated babies.