"But some of my projects are impossible," she said, with a little sigh. "Some small things, indeed, I have accomplished, with God's blessing; but there are others which are quite beyond me." "Indeed! Tell me now, auntie, if you had Aladdin's wonderful lamp, what would you ask for?" "I'd ask for--let me see (the old face became quite thoughtful here)-- I'd ask for a library. You see, Cranby is _very_ badly off for books, and people cannot easily improve without reading, you know. Then I would ask for a new church, and a school room, and a town-hall where we might have lectures and concerts, and for a whole street of model-houses for the poor, and a gymnasium, and a swimming-bath and--" "A swimming-bath, auntie!" exclaimed Jeff. "Isn't the sea big enough?" "Yes, but children won't learn in the sea. They're too fond of running about the edge, and of romping in the shallow water. Besides, the bath could be used in winter, when the sea is too cold. But I'm praying for all these things. If God sees fit, He will give them. If not, I am content with what He has already given." A somewhat sceptical smile rested for a moment on the young man's lips. Happily his heavy moustache concealed it, and saved Miss Millet's feelings. But she went on to vindicate the ways of God with man, and to impress upon Jeff the fact that in His good wisdom "ills" or "wells," and things that seem to us only evil, work out gracious ends. Jeff listened, but said little, and evidently his difficulties were not all removed. Presently, observing that three cups were laid on the table, he asked, "Do you expect company?" "Yes, my brother the captain is coming to tea. He is about to start for China, and I'm so glad you happen to be here; for I'd like you to know each other, and you're sure to like him." Jeff did not feel quite so sure on that point, for he had counted on a long _tete-a-tete_ with his old friend. He took care, however, to conceal his disappointment, and before he had time to reply, the door opened with a crash. "What cheer, old girl? what cheer?" resounded in bo'sun's-mate tones through the house, and next moment a rugged sea-captain stood before them. CHAPTER TWO. A SEA-CAPTAIN RELATES HIS ADVENTURES, AND REFUSES TO DRAW MORALS. Captain Richard Millet, like his sister, was rather eccentric. Unlike her, however, he was large, broad, and powerful. It would have taken considerably more than "half a gale" to blow _him_ away. Even a gale and a half might have failed to do that. "Glad to meet you," he said, extending his solid-looking hand with a frank, hearty air, on being introduced to Jeff. "My sister Molly has often spoken of you. Sorry to hear you've left the sea. Great mistake, young man--great mistake. There's no school like the sea for teaching a man his dependence on his Maker." "The school is not very successful, if one may judge from the character of most of its pupils," replied the youth.