“The truth is like the light; why keep it out?  Yes; what I have worked for, and battled the weather so many years, and been sober and prudent, and a hard student at every idle hour—­that has come to me in one moment from your dear hand.”

“It is a shame.”

“Bless you, Miss Lucy,” cried David, not noting the remark.

Lucy blushed, and the water stood in her eyes.  She murmured softly: 
“You should not say Miss Lucy; it is not customary.  You should say
Lucy, or Miss Fountain.”

This apropos remark by way of a female diversion.

“Then let me say Lucy to-day, for perhaps I shall never say that, or anything that is sweet to say again.  Lucy, you know what I came for?”

“Oh, yes, to receive my congratulations.”

“More than that, a great deal—­to ask you to go halves in the Rajah."

Lucy’s eyebrows demanded an explanation.

“She is worth two thousand a year to her commander; and that is too much for a bachelor.”

Lucy colored and smiled.  “Why, it is only just enough for bachelors to live upon.”

“It is too much for me alone under the circumstances,” said David, gravely; and there was a little silence.

“Lucy, I love you.  With you the Rajah would be a godsend.  She will help me keep you in the company you have been used to, and were made to brighten and adorn; but. without you I cannot take her from your hand, and, to speak plain, I won’t.”

“Oh, Mr. Dodd!”

“No, Lucy; before I knew you, to command a ship was the height of my ambition—­her quarter-deck my Heaven on earth; and this is a clipper, I own it; I saw her in the docks.  But you have taught me to look higher.  Share my ship and my heart with me, and certainly the ship will be my child, and all the dearer to me that she came to us from her I love.  But don’t say to me, ’Me you shan’t have; you are not good enough for that; but there is a ship for you in my place.’  I wouldn’t accept a star out of the firmament on those terms.”

“How unreasonable!  On the contrary you should say, ’I am doubly fortunate:  I escape a foolish, weak companion for life, and I have a beautiful ship.’  But friendship such as mine for you was never appreciated; I do you injustice; you only talk like that to tease me and make me unhappy.”

“Oh, Lucy, Lucy, did you ever know me—­”

“There, now, forgive me; and own you are not in earnest.”

“This will show you,” said David, sadly; and he took out two letters from his bosom.  “Here are two letters to the secretary.  In one I accept the ship with thanks, and offer to superintend her when her rigging is being set up; and in this one I decline her altogether, with my humble and sincere thanks.”

“Oh yes, you are very humble, sir,” said Lucy.  “Now—­dear friend—­listen to reason.  You have others—­”

“Excuse my interrupting you, but it is a rule with me never to reason about right and wrong; I notice that whoever does that ends by choosing wrong.  I don’t go to my head to find out my duty, I go to my heart; and what little manhood there is in me all cries out against me compounding with the woman I love, and taking a ship instead of her.”