The shorter man was named Fox, a doctor, who had left the service when he married, only to lose his wife a year later, and with her his whole joy of existence. Settling down in this village, near her grave, he had worked up a small practice, which occupied but little of his time, and lived a life from which his great grief seemed to have removed any trace of his former ambition. Not so the taller man, Helston, a commander, who had been invalided and placed on half-pay, suffering from the effects of fevers picked up whilst cruising off the West Coast of Africa, in China, and in the Mediterranean. Though his body was weakened by disease, he was for ever buoyant at the prospects of being restored to health and full-pay, and dreamed eagerly of the time when once more he could go afloat and eventually command his own ship. He, however, generally found a most unsympathetic audience in the Doctor, who listened, with ill-concealed boredom, to his rose-coloured plans, and cynically would say, "Who goes to sea for enjoyment would go to jail for a pastime. Take my advice and get a snug billet in the coast-guard, and don’t bother the sea any more. It’s not done you much good." "It’s all my bad luck, Doc, old chap," Helston would answer; "no fault of the sea. I played the idiot when I was a youngster, was always in disgrace up at the Admiralty, and now, with this rotten fever in me, they won’t employ me again." But he would always finish with, "Well, I’ve waited patiently enough for the last three years, and luck must turn soon". On one such occasion, when the warmth and brightness of a May day had made Helston more than usually enthusiastic as to his chances of full-pay service, Dr. Fox, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, growled, "Next ship, indeed! You talk of nothing but ships and sea, sea and ships, when you ought to be buying a Bath chair to be wheeled about in." "Never mind, old chap, I’m not as bad as that, and I’ll bet you that they give me a ship in less than six months!" "If they do, I will come with you," jeered the Doctor, as he stalked moodily to bed. "That’s a bargain," shouted Helston cheerfully after him. Now one reason why Helston had settled down here with the Doctor, and the great source of his ambitious dreams, was a certain lady named Milly, who, with her father—his name is not necessary, for he was always spoken of as "the Admiral", or "Miss Milly’s father"—lived close to the village. He had wooed her constantly for many years, and had known her since she was born, but the somewhat disdainful little lady had refused him many times, though not without giving him some slight hope of better success if ever he were promoted to the rank of captain. However, as Mistress Milly never personally enters this story, nothing more need be said of her than that she was one of the most bewitching little flirts who ever tyrannized over an old father, or played havoc with the heart of every man she met.