"What will you do, love, when I am going.
With white sail flowing,
The seas beyond?
What will you do, love - "

"They may make the most of that song," says Miss Denison grimly;
"it's the last they'll have from me. Get up as many more concerts
as you like. I won't sing at another unless it's in the fo'c'sle.
I'll sing to the men, but not to Captain Harris. He didn't put in
an appearance tonight. He shall not have another chance of
insulting me."

Was it her vanity that was wounded after all? "You forget," said I,
"that you would not answer when he addressed you at dinner."

"I should think I wouldn't, after the way he spoke to Mr. Ready; and
he too agitated to come to table, poor fellow!"

"Still, the captain felt the open slight."

"Then he shouldn't have used such language in front of me."

"Your father felt it, too, Miss Denison."

I hear nothing plainer than her low but quick reply:

"Mr. Cole, my father has been dead many; many years; he died
before I can remember. That man only married my poor mother. He
sympathizes with Captain Harris - against me; no father would do
that. Look at them together now! And you take his side, too; oh!