"What were you and Bart Wrigley talking about?" said Mary Dell, as soon as she was alone with her brother. "You," said Abel, going on scraping his netting-needle. "What about me?" "All sorts o' things." "What do you mean?" "What do I mean? Why, you know. About your being a fool--about the fine captain and his new sweetheart. Why, you might ha' knowed, Mary." "Look here, Abel," cried Mary, catching him by the wrist, and dragging at it so that he started to his feet and they stood face to face, the stunted brother and the well-grown girl wonderfully equal in size, and extremely alike in physique and air; "if you dare to talk to me again like that, we shall quarrel." "Well, let's quarrel, then." "What?" cried Mary, staring, for this was a new phase in her brother's character. "I say, let's quarrel, then," cried Abel, folding his arms. "Do you think I've been blind? Do you think I haven't seen what's been going on, and how that man has served you? Why, it has nearly broken poor old Bart's heart." "Abel!" "I don't care, Polly, I will speak now. You don't like Bart." "I do. He is a good true fellow as ever stepped, but--" "Yes, I know. It ar'n't nat'ral or you to like him as he likes you; but you've been a fool, Polly, to listen to that fine jack-a-dandy; and-- curse him! I'll half-kill him next time we meet!" Mary tried to speak, but her emotion choked her. "You--you don't know what you are saying," she panted at last. "Perhaps not," he said, in a low, muttering way; "but I know what I'm going to do!" "Do!" she cried, recovering herself, and making an effort to regain her old ascendency over her brother. "I forbid you to do anything. You shall not interfere." "Very well," said the young man, with a smile; and as his sister persisted he seemed to be subdued. "Nothing, I say. Any quarrel I may have with Captain Armstrong is my affair, and I can fight my own battle. Do you hear?" "Yes, I hear," said Abel, going toward the door. "You understand! I forbid it. You shall not even speak to him." "Yes, I understand," said Abel, tucking the netting-needle into his pocket, and thrusting his knife into its sheath; and then, before Mary could call up sufficient energy to speak again, the young man passed out of the cottage and hurried after Bart. Mary went to the little casement and stood gazing after him thoughtfully for a few minutes, till he passed out of her sight among the rocks on his way to where the boat lay. "No," she said, softly; "he would not dare!" Then turning and taking the seat her brother had vacated, a desolate look of misery came over her handsome face, which drooped slowly into her hands, and she sat there weeping silently as she thought of the wedding that was to take place the next day. CHAPTER THREE. AT THE CHURCH DOOR. Captain James Armstrong had a few more words with his cousin, Lieutenant Humphrey, anent his marriage.