Lady of the Barge | Page 3

mate below, and giving vent to a little cry of indignation
as she saw herself in the glass, waved the amorous Ted on deck, and
started work on her disarranged hair.
At breakfast-time a little friction was caused by what the mate bitterly
termed the narrow-minded, old-fashioned ways of the skipper. He had
arranged that the skipper should steer while he and Miss Harris
breakfasted, but the coffee was no sooner on the table than the skipper
called him, and relinquishing the helm in his favour, went below to do
the honours. The mate protested.
"It's not proper," said the skipper. "Me and 'er will 'ave our meals
together, and then you must have yours. She's under my care."
Miss Harris assented blithely, and talk and laughter greeted the ears of
the indignant mate as he steered. He went down at last to cold coffee
and lukewarm herrings, returning to the deck after a hurried meal to
find the skipper narrating some of his choicest experiences to an
audience which hung on his lightest word.
The disregard they showed for his feelings was maddening, and for the
first time in his life he became a prey to jealousy in its worst form. It
was quite clear to him that the girl had become desperately enamoured
of the skipper, and he racked his brain in a wild effort to discover the
reason.
With an idea of reminding his brother-in-law of his position, he alluded
two or three times in a casual fashion to his wife. The skipper hardly

listened to him, and patting Miss Harris's cheek in a fatherly manner,
regaled her with an anecdote of the mate's boyhood which the latter had
spent a goodly portion of his life in denying. He denied it again, hotly,
and Miss Harris, conquering for a time her laughter, reprimanded him
severely for contradicting.
By the time dinner was ready he was in a state of sullen apathy, and
when the meal was over and the couple came on deck again, so far
forgot himself as to compliment Miss Harris upon her appetite.
"I'm ashamed of you, Ted," said the skipper, with severity.
"I'm glad you know what shame is," retorted the mate.
"If you can't be'ave yourself, you'd better keep a bit for'ard till you get
in a better temper," continued the skipper.
"I'll be pleased to," said the smarting mate. "I wish the barge was
longer."
"It couldn't be too long for me," said Miss Harris, tossing her head.
"Be'aving like a schoolboy," murmured the skipper.
"I know how to behave _my_-self," said the mate, as he disappeared
below. His head suddenly appeared again over the companion. "If some
people don't," he added, and disappeared again.
He was pleased to notice as he ate his dinner that the giddy prattle
above had ceased, and with his back turned toward the couple when he
appeared on deck again, he lounged slowly forward until the skipper
called him back again.
"Wot was them words you said just now, Ted?" he inquired.
The mate repeated them with gusto.
"Very good," said the skipper, sharply; "very good."

"Don't you ever speak to me again," said Miss Harris, with a stately air,
"because I won't answer you if you do."
The mate displayed more of his schoolboy nature. "Wait till you're
spoken to," he said, rudely. "This is your gratefulness, I suppose?"
"Gratefulness?" said Miss Harris, with her chin in the air. "What for?"
"For bringing you for a trip," replied the mate, sternly.
"You bringing me for a trip!" said Miss Harris, scornfully. "Captain
Gibbs is the master here, I suppose. He is giving me the trip. You're
only the mate."
"Just so," said the mate, with a grin at his brother-in-law, which made
that worthy shift uneasily. "I wonder what Loo will say when she sees
you with a lady aboard?"
"She came to please you," said Captain Gibbs, with haste.
"Ho! she did, did she?" jeered the mate. "Prove it; only don't look to me
to back you, that's all."
The other eyed him in consternation, and his manner changed.
"Don't play the fool, Ted," he said, not unkindly; "you know what Loo
is."
"Well, I'm reckoning on that," said the mate, deliberately. "I'm going
for'ard; don't let me interrupt you two. So long."
He went slowly forward, and lighting his pipe, sprawled carelessly on
the deck, and renounced the entire sex forthwith. At teatime the skipper
attempted to reverse the procedure at the other meals; but as Miss
Harris steadfastly declined to sit at the same table as the mate, his good
intentions came to naught.
He made an appeal to what he termed the mate's better nature, after
Miss Harris had retired to the seclusion of her bed-chamber, but in

vain.
"She's nothing to do