The disregard they showed for his feelings was maddening, and for the first time in his life he became a prey to jealousy in its worst form. It was quite clear to him that the girl had become desperately enamoured of the skipper, and he racked his brain in a wild effort to discover the reason.
With an idea of reminding his brother-in-law of his position, he alluded two or three times in a casual fashion to his wife. The skipper hardly listened to him, and patting Miss Harris’s cheek in a fatherly manner, regaled her with an anecdote of the mate’s boyhood which the latter had spent a goodly portion of his life in denying. He denied it again, hotly, and Miss Harris, conquering for a time her laughter, reprimanded him severely for contradicting.
By the time dinner was ready he was in a state of sullen apathy, and when the meal was over and the couple came on deck again, so far forgot himself as to compliment Miss Harris upon her appetite.
“I’m ashamed of you, Ted,” said the skipper, with severity.
“I’m glad you know what shame is,” retorted the mate.
“If you can’t be’ave yourself, you’d better keep a bit for’ard till you get in a better temper,” continued the skipper.
“I’ll be pleased to,” said the smarting mate. “I wish the barge was longer.”
“It couldn’t be too long for me,” said Miss Harris, tossing her head.
“Be’aving like a schoolboy,” murmured the skipper.
“I know how to behave my-self,” said the mate, as he disappeared below. His head suddenly appeared again over the companion. “If some people don’t,” he added, and disappeared again.
He was pleased to notice as he ate his dinner that the giddy prattle above had ceased, and with his back turned toward the couple when he appeared on deck again, he lounged slowly forward until the skipper called him back again.
“Wot was them words you said just now, Ted?” he inquired.
The mate repeated them with gusto.
“Very good,” said the skipper, sharply; “very good.”
“Don’t you ever speak to me again,” said Miss Harris, with a stately air, “because I won’t answer you if you do.”
The mate displayed more of his schoolboy nature. “Wait till you’re spoken to,” he said, rudely. “This is your gratefulness, I suppose?”
“Gratefulness?” said Miss Harris, with her chin in the air. “What for?”
“For bringing you for a trip,” replied the mate, sternly.
“You bringing me for a trip!” said Miss Harris, scornfully. “Captain Gibbs is the master here, I suppose. He is giving me the trip. You’re only the mate.”
“Just so,” said the mate, with a grin at his brother-in-law, which made that worthy shift uneasily. “I wonder what Loo will say when she sees you with a lady aboard?”
“She came to please you,” said Captain Gibbs, with haste.
“Ho! she did, did she?” jeered the mate. “Prove it; only don’t look to me to back you, that’s all.”