would entail leaving the navy and living with his uncle, who, though kind, was arbitrary enough, and would have very decided opinions upon whom his choice should fall.  Connection, money, he knew would be a sine qua non.  More than one well-born and tochered debutante had successively been indicated to him as a bride that would in all respects suit Lord Bromley’s views; and Bluebell, as far as he knew, fulfilled none of these conditions.  All the same the struggle in his mind was in combatting the difficulties that opposed his resolution to marry her.

Bluebell, of course, could not guess his thoughts, and she only felt very desponding that he seemed unable to suggest anything.

“Oh, Mr. Dutton,” she cried, “do go and tell the captain, and ask him what I had better do!  He is sure to think of something,—­for a day or two, at any rate.”

The young man looked up with a strange smile, but there were other persons present.  “Certainly,” he said, with rather a constrained manner.  “I will go and tell him,”—­and Bluebell, mistaking his reserve for coolness, felt disappointed.

The captain was very busy, and not too well pleased at being interrupted, but when he had mastered the intelligence he gave it his whole attention directly.

“Eh, the puir lassie!” he ejaculated, “wha’s to become of her!”

“There’s only one thing that I can do,” said the lieutenant, briefly.

“You!” said the skipper, whose remark had been an exclamation, not an interrogation.  “What the mischief could you do?  I am doubting what the guidwife will say, but I am thinking I must jeest take her home.”

“Oh, how good of you, sir!” said the young man, seizing his hand, unobservant of the dry cynical look in his eyes.  “But I trust it will not be for long, as I must tell you, in confidence, if she will only consent, I intend—­I hope to marry Miss Leigh immediately.”

“You be d—­d!  I will have no such goings on.  If the lassie comes to me, she will act conformable; and, if you think you are in a position to maintain a wife, you may consult your feymily; I’ll have no such responsibility.”

“You are, of course omnipotent in your own ship,” said the young sailor, angrily, “but you need not forget you are speaking to a gentleman.”

“As far as I can see they are no honester than other people.  I only belong to the respectable class myself, and I’ll no have it.”

“What a fool I was to tell you!  But surely,” half laughing, “matrimony is an honourable institution.”

“I kenna—­I kenna.  I’ll give the bairn shelter till she hears from her kin, but I’ll have no marrying or such like, to be called to account for mayhap afterwards.”

But Mr. Dutton, only made more eager by opposition, sprang away to the saloon, where Bluebell was sitting.

“Yes, I have a message for you,” said he, in answer to her inquiring look.  “Will you come on deck?  Here are your cloak and hood.”