in the kitchen," she said, crossing to the door.

Both men protested. The captain because it ill-assorted with his dignity
for his daughter to sit in the kitchen, and Mr. Wilks because of the
visitor already there. The face of the steward, indeed, took on such
extraordinary expressions in his endeavour to convey private information
to the girl that she gazed at him in silent amazement. Then she turned
the handle of the door and, passing through, closed it with a bang which
was final.

Mr. Wilks stood spellbound, but nothing happened. There was no cry of
surprise; no hasty reappearance of an indignant Kate Nugent. His
features working nervously he resumed his seat and gazed dutifully at his
superior officer.

"I suppose you've heard that my son is going to get married?" said the
latter.

"I couldn't help hearing of it, sir," said the steward in self defence--
"nobody could."

"He's going to marry that yellow-headed Jezebel of Kybird's," said the
captain, staring at the fire.

Mr. Wilks murmured that he couldn't understand anybody liking yellow
hair, and, more than that, the general opinion of the ladies in Fullalove
Alley was that it was dyed.

"I'm going to ship him on the Seabird," continued the captain. "She'll
probably be away for a year or two, and, in the meantime, this girl will