It was a strange proposition to make to a child, but, in her deep earnestness, she did not seem to understand the strangeness of it. Comethup hesitated for a moment, and then began politely, "It's very kind of you, aunt, and----" but she instantly checked him. "Never mind that. What do you say? You must remember that I'm a lonely old woman, and a bit short in my temper on occasion; but I'll be a good friend to you if you'll be a good friend to me. That's fair and square, isn't it? I only want you to love me a little, Comethup, and you may be sure I shall know the difference between the false and the real. If you try to humbug me, I've done with you. Now, what's it to be? Yes or No?" "Yes," said Comethup. "Good! Not another word. If you don't mind kissing a blind old fright you can kiss me, and we'll call it sealed. Now, when will you be ready to start?" "To London?" asked Comethup, anxiously. "Yes, to London. You can't start being a man in this one-eyed old town; you'd simply vegetate." "You see, aunt," he began, timidly, "there are people--people I should like to say good-bye to. They've all been very kind to me, and I shouldn't like them to think----" "That you were turning your back on them in a hurry, eh? You're quite right, boy; only I don't want to stop here forever, and you must get your farewells done with. How many of these people are there? Half the town full, I suppose?" "Oh, no," replied Comethup, laughing; "there's only the captain and--and 'Linda----" She caught him up swiftly on that name. "Halloo! who's 'Linda?" "A--a little girl," said Comethup faintly. "Oh, you dog! you've begun precious early. Why, you oughtn't to know what a petticoat means at your age. Is she pretty, child?" "Very pretty," said Comethup, with an air of deep conviction. She rocked herself over her stick and laughed delightedly, and shook him by the shoulders. "I like you the better for it; we'll make a man of you all the more easily. I suppose you'll break your heart, or hers, when you leave her?" "I shall be very sorry," replied the boy, "and I think she'll be sorry too." "Well, well, you shall come back and see her; I don't want you to lose any of your friends. Only, mind, I must be first; I'm beginning to have a devil of a jealousy in me, child, of all these friends of yours who seem so fond of you. Is there any one else?" "Yes; there's Brian." The old lady stiffened a little. "Well, it won't break his heart, at all events. Any one else?" "Yes, one more; Mr. Theed." "And who the devil's Mr. Theed?" she asked, wrinkling her brow. "Oh, he's a shoemaker--quite a nice shoemaker, I do assure you; he has dreams, and visions, and things. The captain likes him immensely, and 'Linda worships him. I think that's all."