"Sir Mark, I'm a plain man, and I think by this time you pretty well know my history. I ought to be over in Trinidad superintending the cocoa estate my poor father left me, but I detest the West Indies, and I love European life. It is my misfortune to be too well off. Not rich, but I have a comfortable, modest income. Naturally idle, I suppose." "Nonsense, sir!" said the admiral gruffly. "One of the most active men I ever met." "Thank you. Well, idle, according to the accepted ideas of some of the Americans we meet abroad. Dollars--making dollars--their whole conversation chinks of the confounded coin, and their ladies' dresses rustle with greenbacks. I hate money-making, but I like money for my slave, which bears me into good society and among the beauties of nature. Yes, I am an idler--full, perhaps, of dilettantism." "Rather a long preface, Mr Barron," said Sir Mark gruffly. "Make headway, please. What is it you wish to say?" "I think you know, sir," said the other warmly. "I lived to thirty-seven, hardly giving a thought to the other sex, save as agreeable companions. I met you and your niece and daughter over yonder at Macugnaga, and the whole world was changed." "Humph!" "I am not a boy, sir. I speak to you as a man of the world, and I tell you plainly that I love her as a strong man only can love." "Edith?" "Don't trifle with me, sir!" cried Barron, bringing his hand down heavily upon the table, and gazing almost fiercely in the old sailor's eyes. "Humph! my daughter, then. And you have told her all this?" "Sir Mark Jerrold! Have I ever given you cause to think I was other than a gentleman?" "No, no," said the admiral hastily. "I beg your pardon. But this is all very sudden; we are such new acquaintances." "You might call it friends," said Barron reproachfully. "No; acquaintances--yet," said the old sailor sturdily. "Then you do give me some hope?" cried Barron excitedly. "No, I did not, sir. I'm out of soundings here. No; hang it, I meant to say, sir, in shoal water. Hang it, man, I don't want the child to think about such things for years." "Sir Mark, your daughter must be twenty." "Eh? Twenty? Humph! Well, I suppose she is." "There is no hurry, sir. Let matters go on as they are, only let it be an understood thing that you do, say in a latent may, encourage my suit." "No, sir; I'll bind myself to nothing; I--Oh, hang it all, man, why did you spoil a pleasant trip like this?" "Spoil it, Sir Mark? Have some compassion for the natural feelings of a man thrown into the society of so sweet a girl as--" "That will do, sir; that will do," cried the admiral, frowning. "There; I'm not going to quarrel with you, Mr Barron. I was young once myself. I was a good sailor, I'm told, but this sort of thing is out of my latitude. If my poor wife had lived--Phew! it's growing hot, isn't it? Thunderstorm, I suppose." "I'm very sorry, Sir Mark."