"We walked up and down agin, and every time we went near the edge of the
jetty she 'eld on to my arm for fear of stumbling agin. And there was
that silly cook standing about on the schooner on tip-toe and twisting
his silly old neck till I wonder it didn't twist off.

"'Wot a beautiful evening it is!' she ses, at last, in a low voice. 'I
'ope father isn't coming back early. Do you know wot time he is coming
home?'

"'About twelve,' I ses; 'but don't tell 'im I told you so.'

"'O' course not,' she ses, squeezing my arm. 'Poor father! I hope he is
enjoying himself as much as I am.'

"We walked down to the jetty agin arter that, and sat side by side
looking acrost the river. And she began to talk about Life, and wot a
strange thing it was; and 'ow the river would go on flowing down to the
sea thousands and thousands o' years arter we was both dead and
forgotten. If it hadn't ha' been for her little 'ead leaning agin my
shoulder I should have 'ad the creeps.

"'Let's go down into the cabin,' she ses, at last, with a little shiver;
'it makes me melancholy sitting here and thinking of the "might-have-
beens."'

"I got up first and 'elped her up, and, arter both staring hard at the
cook, wot didn't seem to know 'is place, we went down into the cabin.
It was a comfortable little place, and arter she 'ad poured me out a
glass of 'er father's whisky, and filled my pipe for me, I wouldn't ha'
changed places with a king. Even when the pipe wouldn't draw I didn't