Two days previously the captain had called, and said to Mrs Brand
I tell ee what it is, sister, Im tired of livin a solitary bachelor life, all by myself, so Im goin to make a change, lass.
Mrs Brand was for some moments speechless, and Minnie, who was sewing near the window, dropped her hands and work on her lap, and looked up with inexpressible amazement in her sweet blue eyes.
Brother, said Mrs Brand earnestly, you dont mean to tell me that youre going to marry at your time of life?
Eh! what? Marry?
The captain looked, if possible, more amazed than his sister for a second or two, then his red face relaxed into a broad grin, and he sat down on a chair and chuckled, wiping the perspiration (he seemed always more or less in a state of perspiration) from his bald head the while.
Why, no, sister, Im not going to marry; did I speak of marryin?
No; but you spoke of being tired of a bachelor life, and wishing to change.
Ah! you women, said the captain, shaking his headalways suspecting that we poor men are wantin to marry you. Well, praps you aint far wrong neither; but Im not goin to be spliced yet-a-while, lass. Marry, indeed!
Shall I, wastin in despair,
Die, cause why? a womans rare?
Oh! Captain Ogilvy, thats not rightly quoted, cried Minnie, with a merry laugh.
Aint it? said the captain, somewhat put out; for he did not like to have his powers of memory doubted.
No; surely women are not rare, said Minnie.
Good ones are, said the captain stoutly.
Well; but thats not the right word.
What is the right word, then? asked the captain with affected sternness, for, although by nature disinclined to admit that he could be wrong, he had no objection to be put right by Minnie.
Die because a womans f, said Minnie, prompting him.
F, funny? guessed the captain.
No; its not funny, cried Minnie, laughing heartily.
Of course not, assented the captain, it could not be funny nohow, because funny dont rhyme with despair; besides, lots o women aint funny a bit, an if they was, thats no reason why a man should die for em; what is the word, lass?
What am I? asked Minnie, with an arch smile, as she passed her fingers through the clustering masses of her beautiful hair.
An angel, beyond all doubt, said the gallant captain, with a burst of sincerity which caused Minnie to blush and then to laugh.
Youre incorrigible, captain, and you are so stupid that its of no use trying to teach you.
Mrs Brandwho listened to this conversation with an expression of deep anxiety on her meek face, for she could not get rid of her first idea that her brother was going to marryhere broke in with the question
When is it to be, brother?
When is what to be, sister?
Thethe marriage.
I tell you I aint a-goin to marry, repeated the captain; though why a stout young feller like me, just turned sixty-four, shouldnt marry, is more than I can see. You know the old proverbs, lassIts never too late to marry; Never ventur, never give in; John Anderson my jo John, when we was firstfirst
Married, suggested Minnie.
Just so, responded the captain, and everybody knows that he was an old man. But no, Im not goin to marry; Im only goin to give up my house, sell off the furniture, and come and live with you.
Live with me! ejaculated Mrs Brand.
Ay, an why not? Whats the use o goin to the expense of two houses when onell do, an when were both raither scrimp o the ready? Youll just let me have the parlour. It never was a comfrable room to sit in, so it dont matter much your givin it up; its a good enough sleepin and smokin cabin, an well all live together in the kitchen. Ill throw the whole of my treemendous income into the general purse, always exceptin a few odd coppers, which Ill retain to keep me a-goin in baccy. Well sail under the same flag, an sit round the same fire, an sup at the same table, and sleep in the sameno, not exactly that, but under the same roof-tree, whichll be a more hoconomical way o doin business, you know; an so, old girl, as the song says
Come an let us be happy together,
For where theres a will theres a way,
An we wont care a rap for the weather
So long as theres nothin to pay.
Would it not be better to say, so long as theres something to pay? suggested Minnie.
No, lass, it wouldnt, retorted the captain. Youre too fond of improvin things. Im a stanch old Tory, I am. Ill stick to the old flag till alls blue. None o your changes or improvements for me.
This was a rather bold statement for a man to make who improved upon almost every line he ever quoted; but the reader is no doubt acquainted with parallel instances of inconsistency in good men even in the present day.
Now, sister, continued Captain Ogilvy, what dye think of my plan?
I like it well, brother, replied Mrs Brand with a gentle smile. Will you come soon?
To-morrow, about eight bells, answered the captain promptly.
This was all that was said on the subject. The thing was, as the captain said, settled off-hand, and accordingly next morning he conveyed such of his worldly goods as he meant to retain possession of to his sisters cottagethe new ship, as he styled it. He carried his traps on his own broad shoulders, and the conveyance of them cost him three distinct trips.
They consisted of a huge sea-chest, an old telescope more than a yard long, and cased in leather; a quadrant, a hammock, with the bedding rolled up in it, a tobacco-box, the enormous old Family Bible in which the names of his father, mother, brothers, and sisters were recorded; and a brown teapot with half a lid. This latter had belonged to the captains mother, and, being fond of it, as it reminded him of the old ooman, he was wont to mix his grog in it, and drink the same out of a teacup, the handle of which was gone, and the saucer of which was among the things of the past.
Notwithstanding his avowed adherence to Tory principles, Captain Ogilvy proceeded to make manifold radical changes and surprising improvements in the little parlour, insomuch that when he had completed the task, and led his sister carefully (for she was very feeble) to look at what he had done, she became quite incapable of expressing herself in ordinary language; positively refused to believe her eyes, and never again entered that room, but always spoke of what she had seen as a curious dream!
No one was ever able to discover whether there was not a slight tinge of underlying jocularity in this remark of Mrs Brand, for she was a strange and incomprehensible mixture of shrewdness and innocence; but no one took much trouble to find out, for she was so lovable that people accepted her just as she was, contented to let any small amount of mystery that seemed to be in her to remain unquestioned.
The parlour was one of those well-known rooms which are occasionally met with in country cottages, the inmates of which are not wealthy. It was reserved exclusively for the purpose of receiving visitors. The furniture, though old, threadbare, and dilapidated, was kept scrupulously clean, and arranged symmetrically. There were a few books on the table, which were always placed with mathematical exactitude, and a set of chairs, so placed as to give one mysteriously the impression that they were not meant to be sat upon. There was also a grate, which never had a fire in it, and was never without a paper ornament in it, the pink and white aspect of which caused one involuntarily to shudder.