Love, The Fiddler | Page 8

her backwardness, "I don't fancy I'll have any
trouble to satisfy you. I don't want to toot my own horn, Florence, but
really, you know, I am rated a first-class man. I'll prove that by my
certificates and all that, or give me two weeks' trial, and see for
yourself."
"Oh, it isn't that," she said.
"Then, what is it?" he broke out. "Only the other day they offered me a
Western Ocean liner, and, if you like, I'll send you the letter. If I am
good enough for a big passenger ship, I guess I can run the Minnehaha
to please you!"
"Frank," she returned, "it is not a question of your competency at all.
You know very well I'd trust my life to you, blindfold. It's --it's the
social side, the old affair between us, the first names and all that kind of
thing."
"Oh, I see!" he said blankly.
"As an officer on my ship," she said, "you could easily put yourself and
me in a difficult position. In a way, we'll really be further apart than if
you were in South America and I in Monte Carlo, for, though we'd
always be good friends, and all that, the formalities would have to be
observed. Now, I have offended you?" she added, putting out her hand
appealingly.
"I think you might have known me better, Florence," he returned. "I am
not offended--what right have I to be offended--only a little hurt,
perhaps, to think that you could doubt me for a single moment in such a
matter. I understand very well, and appreciate the need for it. Did you
expect me to call you Florence on the quarterdeck of your own vessel,
and presume on our old friendship to embarrass you and set people
talking? Good Heavens, what do you take me for?"
"Don't be angry with me, Frank," she pleaded. "It had to be said, you
know. I wanted you so much to come; I wanted to share my beautiful
vessel with you; and yet I dreaded any kind of a false position."
"I shall treat you precisely as I would any owner of any ship I sailed

on," he said. "That is, with respect and always preserving my distance.
I will never address you first except to say good- morning and
good-evening, and will show no concern if you do not speak to me for
days on end."
"Oh, Frank, you are an angel!" she cried.
"No," he returned, "only--as far as I can--a gentleman, Miss Fenacre."
"We needn't begin now, Frank," she exclaimed, almost with annoyance.
"Am I in your service?" he asked.
"From to-day," she answered, "and I will give you a note to Captain
Landry."
"Then you will be Miss Fenacre to me from now on," he said.
"You must say good-bye to Florence first," she said, smiling. "You may
kiss my hand," she said, as she gave it to him. "You used to do it so
gallantly in the old days--such a Spaniard that you are, Frank--and I
liked it so much!"
He did so, and for the first time in his life with a kind of shame.
"I hope we are not both of us making a terrible mistake, Florence," he
said.
"Oh, I couldn't want a better chief!" she said, "and, as for you, it's the
wisest thing you ever did. It's me, after all, who is making the sacrifice,
for, in a month or two, all the gilt will wear off, and you will see me as
I really am. You will find it very disillusioning to go to sea with your
divinity," she added. "You will discover she is a very flesh-and-blood
affair, after all, Frank, and not worth the tip of your little finger."
"I had a good many opportunities of judging before," he replied, "and
the more I knew her the more I loved her."
"Well, I am changed now," she said. "I suppose all the bad has come to
the surface since--like the slag when they melt iron and skim it off with
dippers--only with me there's nobody to dip. If I am astounded at the
difference, what do you suppose you'll be?"
"There never could be any difference to me," he said.
"That's the only kind of love worth talking about," she said, going to
the window and looking out.
For a while neither of them spoke. Frank rose and stood with his hat in
his hand, waiting to take his departure. Florence turned, and going to an
escritoire sat down and wrote a few lines on a card.
"Present this to Captain Landry," she said, "and, now, my dear chief

engineer, I will give you your conge."
He thanked her, and put the card carefully in his pocketbook.
"What a farce it all is,