one of the merchants to whom Mr. Barnett had promised him a letter of
introduction, so that she might from time to time write, for the voyage
would take at least four months and as much more would be required for his
first letter to come back. He walked moodily home after parting with her.

"Hullo, Harry! nothing wrong with you, I hope? why, you look as grave as
an owl."

"I feel grave, Bertie. I have just said good-bye to Hilda; and though I
kept up my spirits and made the best of this expedition of ours, I cannot
but feel how improbable it is that we shall meet again--that is to say, in
our present relations; for if I fail I certainly shall not return home for
some years; it would be only fair to her that I should not do so. I know
that she would keep on as long as there was any hope, but I should not
care to think that she was wasting her life. I was an ass to believe it
could ever be otherwise, and I feel that the best thing for us both would
have been for me to go away as soon as I found that I was getting fond of
her."

"Well, of course I cannot understand it, Harry, and it seems to me that
one girl is very like another; she may be a bit prettier than the average,
but I suppose that comes to all the same thing in another twenty years. I
can understand a man getting awfully fond of his ship, especially when she
is a clipper. However, some day I may feel different; besides, how could
you tell that her father would turn out such a crusty old beggar?"

"I suppose I did not think about it one way or the other, Bertie," Harry
said quietly. "However, the mischief is done, and even if there was no
chance whatever of making money I should go now for my own sake as well as
hers. Well, it is of no use talking more about it; we will go out now and