Mr. Filer shook his head, and, trying hard to ignore the face at the window, said that he was not hungry. He sat trembling with agitation, and, desirous of postponing the encounter with the boatswain as long as possible, kept ordering ices for Miss Jelks until that lady, in justice to herself, declined to eat any more. “I can’t finish this,” she said. “You’ll have to help me.” She took up a generous spoonful, and in full view of the face at the window leaned across the table and put it into Mr. Filer’s unwilling mouth. With a violent shudder he saw the boatswain leave the window and take up a position in front of the door. Miss Jelks drew on her gloves and, with another glance in the mirror as she rose, turned to leave. Mr. Filer made no attempt to follow. “Ain’t you ready?” said Miss Jelks, pausing. “I’m not feeling very well,” said the young man, desperately, as he passed his hand across his forehead. “It’s the ice, I think—I’m not used to ’em.” “Perhaps the air will do you good,” said Rosa. Mr. Filer shook his head. Whatever good the air might do him would, he felt certain, be counteracted by the treatment of the boatswain. “Don’t wait for me,” he said, with a faint sad smile. “I might be here for hours; I’ve been like it before.” “I can’t leave you like this,” said Rosa. “Why”—she turned suddenly, and her face lit up with a smile—“here’s Mr. Walters! How fortunate! He’ll be able to help you home.” “No—don’t trouble,” gasped Mr. Filer, as the boatswain came into the shop and prepared to render first aid by moistening his palms and rubbing them together. “It’s very kind of you, but I shall be all right if I’m left alone. I’d rather be left alone—I would indeed.” “You’d better let the gentleman help you home,” urged the shopkeeper. “He looks strong.” Mr. Filer shuddered. “And you can lean on me,” said Rosa, softly. Mr. Filer shuddered again, and with surprising energy, considering his invalid condition, gripped the iron frame of the table with his legs and clutched the top with his hands. “I don’t like leaving him here,” said Rosa, hesitating. “Neither don’t I,” growled the boatswain. “’Owever, I s’pose I’ll run against ’im sooner or later.” He escorted Rosa to the door and, after a yearning glance at Mr. Filer, followed her out and walked by her side in silence. “Poor fellow,” said Rosa, at last. “How generous he is! I believe he’d give me anything I asked for.” Mr. Walters started and, bending his brows, muttered something about giving Mr. Filer more than he asked for. “Oh, yes; I dare say,” retorted Rosa, turning on him with sudden heat. “I’m not to speak to anybody to please you. You leave my friends alone. What’s it got to do with you?” “I see you,” said Mr. Walters, darkly; “I see you from the ship. You little thought as ’ow I was a-watching your little games.” Miss Jelks stopped and, drawing herself up, regarded him haughtily.