Short Cruises | Page 8

a friendly fashion
on the cook's shoulder, and was displaying an interest in his welfare as
unusual as it was gratifying. So unaccustomed was Mr. Jewell to such

consideration that he was fain to pause for a moment or two to regain
control of his features before plunging into the lamp-lit fo'c'sle.
The mate made but a poor breakfast next morning, but his superior,
who saw the hand of Miss Jewell in the muddy coffee and the cremated
bacon, ate his with relish. He was looking forward to the evening, the
cook having assured him that his sister had accepted his invitation to
inspect the cabin, and indeed had talked of little else. The boy was set
to work house-cleaning, and, having gleaned a few particulars, cursed
the sex with painstaking thoroughness.
It seemed to the skipper a favorable omen that Miss Jewell descended
the companion-ladder as though to the manner born; and her
exclamations of delight at the cabin completed his satisfaction. The
cook, who had followed them below with some trepidation, became
reassured, and seating himself on a locker joined modestly in the
conversation.
"It's like a doll's-house," declared the girl, as she finished by examining
the space-saving devices in the state-room. "Well, I mustn't take up any
more of your time."
"I've got nothing to do," said the skipper, hastily. "I--I was thinking of
going for a walk; but it's lonely walking about by yourself."
Miss Jewell agreed. She lowered her eyes and looked under the lashes
at the skipper.
"I never had a sister," continued the latter, in melancholy accents.
"I don't suppose you would want to take her out if you had," said the
girl.
The skipper protested. "Bert takes you out," he said.
"He isn't like most brothers," said Miss Jewell, shifting along the locker
and placing her hand affectionately on the cook's shoulder.

"If I had a sister," continued the skipper, in a somewhat uneven voice,
"I should take her out. This evening, for instance, I should take her to a
theatre."
Miss Jewell turned upon him the innocent face of a child. "It would be
nice to be your sister," she said, calmly.
The skipper attempted to speak, but his voice failed him. "Well, pretend
you are my sister," he said, at last, "and we'll go to one."
"Pretend?" said Miss Jewell, as she turned and eyed the cook. "Bert
wouldn't like that," she said, decidedly.
"N--no," said the cook, nervously, avoiding the skipper's eye.
"It wouldn't be proper," said Miss Jewell, sitting upright and looking
very proper indeed.
"I--I meant Bert to come, too," said the skipper; "of course," he added.
The severity of Miss Jewell's expression relaxed. She stole an amused
glance at the cook and, reading her instructions in his eye, began to
temporize. Ten minutes later the crew of the Elizabeth Barstow in
various attitudes of astonishment beheld their commander going ashore
with his cook. The mate so far forgot himself as to whistle, but with
great presence of mind cuffed the boy's ear as the skipper turned.
For some little distance the three walked along in silence. The skipper
was building castles in the air, the cook was not quite at his ease, and
the girl, gazing steadily in front of her, appeared slightly embarrassed.
By the time they reached Aldgate and stood waiting for an omnibus
Miss Jewell found herself assailed by doubts. She remembered that she
did not want to go to a theatre, and warmly pressed the two men to go
together and leave her to go home. The skipper remonstrated in vain,
but the cook came to the rescue, and Miss Jewell, still protesting, was
pushed on to a 'bus and propelled upstairs. She took a vacant seat in
front, and the skipper and Mr. Jewell shared one behind.

The three hours at the theatre passed all too soon, although the girl was
so interested in the performance that she paid but slight attention to her
companions. During the waits she became interested in her
surroundings, and several times called the skipper's attention to
smart-looking men in the stalls and boxes. At one man she stared so
persistently that an opera-glass was at last levelled in return.
"How rude of him," she said, smiling sweetly at the skipper.
She shook her head in disapproval, but the next moment he saw her
gazing steadily at the opera-glasses again.
"If you don't look he'll soon get tired of it," he said, between his teeth.
"Yes, perhaps he will," said Miss Jewell, without lowering her eyes in
the least.
The skipper sat in torment until the lights were lowered and the curtain
went up again. When it fell he began to discuss the play, but Miss
Jewell returned such vague replies that it was evident her thoughts were
far