"You don't mean to say you've chucked 'er," pursued the heartless
skipper, "after getting an advance from me to buy the ring with, too?
Didn't you buy the ring with the money?"

"No," said the mate, "I--oh, no--of course--what on earth are you
talking about?"

The skipper rose from his seat and regarded him sorrowfully but
severely. "I'm sorry, Jack," he said stiffly, "if I've said anything to
annoy you, or anyway hurt your feelings. O' course it's your business,
not mine. P'raps you'll say you never heard o' Kitty Loney?"

"I do say so," said the bewildered mate; "I do say so."

The skipper eyed him sternly, and without another word left the cabin.
"If she's like her mother," he said to himself, chuckling as he went up
the companion-ladder, "I think that'll do."

There was an awkward pause after his departure. "I'm sure I don't know
what you must think of me," said the mate at length, "but I don't know
what your father's talking about."

"I don't think anything," said Hetty calmly. "Pass the potatoes,
please."

"I suppose it's a joke of his," said the mate, complying.

"And the salt," said she; "thank you."

"But you don't believe it?" said the mate pathetically.