"Mamma," she presently said, quietly passing over the newspaper, "the _Rose of Delhi_ is in." "The _Rose of Delhi_, Captain Tanerton," read Mrs. Dean. "The idea of their sticking in Jack's name as captain! He will have to go down again as soon as Captain Druce returns. A fine captain I dare say he has made!" "At least he has brought the ship home safely and quickly," Alice ventured to say. "It must have passed after dark last night." "Why after dark?" Alice did not reply--Because I was watching till daylight faded--which would have been the truth. "Had it passed before, some of us might have seen it, mamma." The day was waning before Jack came up. Captain Tanerton. Jack was never to go back again to his chief-mateship, as Aunt Dean had surmised, for the owners had given him permanent command of the _Rose of Delhi_. The last mail had brought news from Captain Druce that he should never be well enough for the command again, and the owners were only too glad to give it to the younger and more active man. Officers and crew alike reported that never a better master sailed than Jack had proved himself on this homeward voyage. "Don't you think I have been very lucky on the whole, Aunt Dean? Fancy a young fellow like me getting such a beautiful ship as that!" "Oh, very lucky," returned Aunt Dean. Jack looked like a captain too. He was broad and manly, with an intelligent, honest, handsome face, and the quick keen eye of a sailor. Jack was particular in his attire too: and some sailors are not so: he dressed as a gentleman when on shore. "Only a hundred and fifty left to me!" cried Jack, when he was told the news. "Well, perhaps Herbert may require more than I, poor fellow," he added in his good nature; "he may not get a good living, and then he'll be glad of it. I shall be sure to do well now I've got the ship." "You'll be at sea always, Jack, and will have no use for money," said Mrs. Dean. "Oh, I don't know about having no use for it, Aunt. Anyway, my father thought it right to leave it so, and I am content. I wish I could have said farewell to him before he died!" A few more days, and Aunt Dean was thrown on her beam-ends at a worse angle than ever the _Rose of Delhi_ hoped to be. Jack and Alice discussed matters between themselves, and the result was disclosed to her. They were going to be married. It was Alice who told her. Jack had just left, and she and her mother were sitting together in the summer twilight. At first Mrs. Dean thought Alice was joking: she was like a mad woman when she found it true. Her great dream had never foreshadowed this. "How dare you attempt to think of so monstrous a thing, you wicked girl? Marry your own brother-in-law!--it would be no better. It is Herbert that is to be your husband." Alice shook her head with a smile. "Herbert would not have me, mamma; nor would I have him. Herbert will marry Grace Coney." "Who?" cried Mrs. Dean.