looking somewhat pale as to complexion and untidy as to hair, came slowly
on deck.

"Where's the looking-glass?" she asked, as Ted hastened to greet her.
"How does my hair look?"

"All wavy," said the infatuated young man; "all little curls and
squiggles. Come down in the cabin; there's a glass there."

Miss Harris, with a light nod to the skipper as he sat at the tiller,
followed the 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.