“You never said that, Jenny Crow?” “Why not, my dear? You wouldn’t have had me less courteous than he was. So he stood and talked. You never heard such a voice, Nelly. Deep as a bell, and his Manx tongue was like music. Talk of the Irish brogue! There’s no brogue in the world like the Manx, is there now, not if the right man is speaking it.” “So he was a Manxman,” said Mrs. Quiggin, with a far-away look through the open window. “Didn’t I say so before? But he has quite saddened me. I’m sure there’s trouble hanging over him. ‘I’ve been sailing foreign, ma’am,’ said he, ‘and I don’t know nothing--‘.” “Oh, then he wasn’t a gentleman?” said Mrs. Quiggin. Jenny fired up sharply. “Depends on what you call a gentleman, my dear. Now, any man is a gentleman to me who can afford to dispense with the first two syllables of the name.” Mrs. Quiggin looked down at her feet. “I only meant,” she said meekly, “that your friend hasn’t as much education--.” “Then, perhaps, he has more brains,” said Jenny. “That’s the way they’re sometimes divided, you know, and education isn’t everything.” “Do _you_ think that, Jenny?” said Mrs. Quiggin, with another long look through the window. “Of course I do,” said Jenny. “And what did he say?” “’ I’ve been sailing foreign, ma’am,’ he said. ‘And I don’t know nothing that cut’s a man’s heart from its moorings like coming home same as a homing pigeon, and then wishing yourself back again same as a lost one.’” “Poor fellow!” said Mrs. Quiggin. “He must have found things changed since he went away.” “He must,” said Jenny. “Perhaps he has lost some one who was dear to him,” said Mrs. Quiggin. “Perhaps,” said Jenny, with a sigh. “His mother may be, or his sister--” began Mrs. Quiggin. “Yes, or his wife.” continued Jenny, with a moan. Mrs. Quiggin drew up suddenly. “What’s his name?” she asked sharply. “Nay, how could I ask him that?” said Jenny. “Where does he live?” said Mrs. Quiggin. “Or that either?” said Jenny. Mrs. Quiggin’s eyes wandered slowly back to the window. “We’ve all got our troubles, Jenny,” she said quietly. “All,” said Jenny. “I wonder if I shall ever see him again.” “Tell me if you do, Jenny?” said Mrs. Quiggin. “I will, Nelly,” said Jenny. “Poor fellow, poor fellow,” said Mrs. Quiggin. As Jenny rose to remove her bonnet she shot a sly glance out of the corners of her eyes, and saw that Mrs. Quiggin was furtively wiping her own.