"I never was took aback so in all my life," said the seaman, sitting down beside the old woman, and drawing a sigh so long that it might have been likened to a moderate breeze. "She's the born image o' what her dear mother was when I first met her. _My_ Susy! Well, it's not every poor seaman as comes off a long voyage an' finds that he's fallen heir to a property like _that_!" "You may well be proud of her," said old Liz, "and you'll be prouder yet when you come to know her." "I know it, and I'm proud to shake your hand, mother, an' thankee kindly for takin' such care o' my helpless lassie. You say she'll be home about ten?" "Yes, if she's not kep' late. She always comes home about that time. Meanwhile you'll have something to eat. Tommy, boy, fetch out the loaf and the cheese and the teapot. You know where to find 'em. Tommy's an orphan, Cap'n Blake, that I've lately taken in hand. He's a good boy is Tommy, but rather wild." "Wot can you expect of a horphing?" said the boy with a grin, for he had overheard the latter remark, though it was intended only for the visitor's ear. "But I say, granny, there ain't no cheese here, 'cept a bit o' rind that even a mouse would scorn to look at." "Never mind, bring out the loaf, Tommy." "An' there ain't no use," continued the boy, "o' bringin' out the teapot, 'cause there ain't a grain o' tea nowheres." "Oh! I forgot," returned old Liz, slightly confused; "I've just run out o' tea, Cap'n Blake, an' I haven't a copper at _present_ to buy any, but--" "Never mind that old girl; and I ain't quite captain yet, though trendin' in that direction. You come out along wi' me, Tommy. I'll soon putt these matters to rights." Old Liz could not have remonstrated even if she had wished to do so, for her impulsive visitor was gone in a moment followed by his extremely willing little friend. They returned in quarter of an hour. "There you are," said the seaman, taking the articles one by one from a basket carried by Tommy; "a big loaf, pound o' butter, ditto tea, three pound o' sugar, six eggs, hunk o' cheese, paper o' salt--forgot the pepper; never mind." "You've bin an' forgot the sassengers too--but here they are," said Tommy, plucking the delectable viands from the bottom of the basket with a look of glee, and laying them on the table. Chimney-pot Liz did not look surprised; she only smiled and nodded her head approvingly, for she felt that Sam Blake understood the right thing to do and did it. Soon the celebrated teapot was going the round, full swing, while the air was redolent of fried sausage and cheese mingled with the perfume of roses and mignonette, for this meal, you must know, was eaten in the garden in the afternoon sunshine, while the cooking--done in the attic which opened on the garden--was accomplished by Sam assisted by Tommy.