Jeff Benson, or the Young Coastguardsman | Page 8

wreck. It was his last venture. He had put all that he possessed into it, and not a scrap of the cargo will be saved. Having been a lucky man all his life previously, he said he had determined to `chance his luck' this time, and did not insure vessel or cargo: so that all is gone. His wife and several children are dependent on him. He has no relatives rich enough, or willing enough, to help him; and, poor fellow, he has received injuries while being rescued, which will probably render him helpless for the rest of his life. Now, do you think that good will come out of all that?"
"I am sure it will," returned Miss Millet confidently, "and good to him too if he seeks it; though of course I know not how or when."
"But why are you so sure?"
"Because, Jeff, it is written that God does not `afflict the children of men willingly.' He does it for their good, and that good cannot fail of accomplishment, unless they refuse the good and choose the evil."
Again Jeff became silent and thoughtful. "I have meditated much of late," he said, "about Captain Millet's adventure in China--"
"By the way," interrupted Miss Millet, "that reminds me that the captain's little girl Rose--Rosebud, as he calls her--is to come here this very evening to stay with me for a week."
"Indeed? that will be pleasant, auntie. I must come and see her as an old acquaintance."
"Oh yes, you must, Jeff. You've no idea what a sweet girl she has become. I am quite charmed with her--so modest, and unselfish, and clever, and good, and--and, in short, I call her the four F's, for she is fair, fragile, fervent, and funny."
"What a catalogue!" exclaimed the youth, laughing; "you may well be charmed with her. But what do you mean by funny? Does she try to make people laugh?"
"Oh dear, no! In company she can scarce be made to speak at all, but she is so fond of fun--has such a lively appreciation of humour, and laughs so heartily. She has grown quite into a woman since I last saw her when her father went to sea. There she is!"
Miss Millet sprang from her chair with the agility almost of a young woman, and ran to open the door, for a cab was heard pulling up in front of the cottage.
There was a delighted little shriek from "Auntie!" and the warmest salutations of welcome; and the next moment Miss Millet, with the captain's daughter, arm in arm, embracing one another, entered the parlour.
The coastguardsman was transfixed, for there, before him, flushed and panting, stood--
"A maid with eyes of heavenly blue, And rippling hair of golden hue; With parted lips of Coral too, Disclosing pearls--and--"
All the rest of it! Yes, no wonder that Jeffrey Benson was transfixed. Still less wonder that Rosebud stood in much the same condition; for, a young giant in pilot-cloth, damp and dirty, dishevelled, bespattered with mud, tied up about the fingers and plastered over the nose, was not precisely what she had expected to find in Aunt Millet's parlour.
They were soon introduced, however, and on the best of terms; for the shrinking from Jeff's filthy appearance changed in a moment to hero-worship in the romantic heart of Rose, when she was told the cause of the youth's condition, and heard all the details of the rescue from his own manly lips.
It was love at first sight with both of them; more than that, it was first love at first sight! We have profound sympathy with young people thus circumstanced, especially when they are reticent, and don't give way to sentimental silliness. A good manly and womanly case of this sort of love, in which the parties concerned take a serious header and go deep down, without the smallest intention of ever coming up again, is pleasant to contemplate and agreeable to record.
Of course it must not be supposed that Rose Millet understood what had happened. She was fully aware, indeed, that something unusual had occurred within her inexperienced breast, but she quietly set it down to hero-worship. She had read Carlyle on that subject. She had seen occasional reference in newspapers and magazines to lifeboat work, and she had been thrilled by the record of noble deeds done by heroic seamen and coastguardsmen. At last it was her lot to come athwart one of those heroes. He quite came up to her conception--nay, more than came up to it! She regarded Jeff with feelings approaching to awe. The idea of love in connection with a damp, dirty, wounded, nose-plastered, hair-ravelled giant, with beard enough to make an average hearth-broom, never entered her fair head. If suggested to her she would have laughed it to scorn--had it been possible for one