He seemed to be a lover of gardens. I too take extreme delight in
them; but I did not mean my compunction to carry me as far as
Jacobus's flower-beds, however beautiful and old. He added, with a
certain homeliness of tone:

"There's only my girl there."

It is difficult to set everything down in due order; so I must
revert here to what happened a week or two before. The medical
officer of the port had come on board my ship to have a look at one
of my crew who was ailing, and naturally enough he was asked to
step into the cabin. A fellow-shipmaster of mine was there too;
and in the conversation, somehow or other, the name of Jacobus came
to be mentioned. It was pronounced with no particular reverence by
the other man, I believe. I don't remember now what I was going to
say. The doctor--a pleasant, cultivated fellow, with an assured
manner--prevented me by striking in, in a sour tone:

"Ah! You're talking about my respected papa-in-law."

Of course, that sally silenced us at the time. But I remembered
the episode, and at this juncture, pushed for something
noncommittal to say, I inquired with polite surprise:

"You have your married daughter living with you, Mr. Jacobus?"

He moved his big hand from right to left quietly. No! That was
another of his girls, he stated, ponderously and under his breath
as usual. She . . . He seemed in a pause to be ransacking his mind
for some kind of descriptive phrase. But my hopes were