had, in fact, resorted.  No distrust of the scheme finally put in practice had ever crossed the mind of the young mate, until he received the unexpected order, mentioned in our opening chapter, to prepare the brig for the reception of Mrs. Budd and her party.  Harry confessed his jealousy of one youth whom he dreaded far more even than he had ever dreaded Spike, and whose apparent favour with Rose, and actual favour with her aunt, had given him many a sleepless night.

They next conversed of the future, which to them seemed full of flowers.  Various were the projects started, discussed, and dismissed, between them, the last almost as soon as proposed.  On one thing they were of a mind, as soon as proposed.  Harry was to have a ship as quick as one could be purchased by Rose’s means, and the promised bride laughingly consented to make one voyage to Europe along with her husband.

“I wonder, dear Rose, my poverty has never presented any difficulties in the way of our union,” said Harry, sensibly touched with the free way his betrothed disposed of her own money in his behalf; “but neither you nor Mrs. Budd has ever seemed to think of the difference there is between us in this respect.”

“What is the trifle I possess, Harry, set in the balance against your worth?  My aunt, as you say, has thought I might even be the gainer by the exchange.”

“I am sure I feel a thousand times indebted to Mrs. Budd—­”

“Aunt Budd.  You must learn to say, `_my_ Aunt Budd,’ Mr. Henry Mulford, if you mean to live in peace with her unworthy niece.”

“Aunt Budd, then,” returned Harry, laughing, for the laugh came easily that evening; “Aunt Budd, if you wish it, Rose.  I can have no objection to call any relative of yours, uncle or aunt.”

“I think we are intimate enough, now, to ask you a question or two, Harry, touching my aunt,” continued Rose, looking stealthily over her shoulder, as if apprehensive of being overheard.  “You know how fond she is of speaking of the sea, and of indulging in nautical phrases?”

“Any one must have observed that, Rose,” answered the young man, gazing up at the wall, in order not to be compelled to look the beautiful creature before him in the eyes—­“Mrs. Budd has very strong tastes that way.”

“Now tell me, Harry—­that is, answer me frankly—­I mean—­she is not always right, is she?”

“Why, no; not absolutely so—­that is, not absolutely always so—­few persons are always right, you know.”

Rose remained silent and embarrassed for a moment; after which she pursued the discourse.

“But aunty does not know as much of the sea and of ships as she thinks she does?”

“Perhaps not.  We all overrate our own acquirements.  I dare say that even I am not as good a seaman as I fancy myself to be.”

“Even Spike admits that you are what he calls `a prime seaman.’  But it is not easy for a woman to get a correct knowledge of the use of all the strange, and sometimes uncouth, terms that you sailors use.”