from me and see the Gloria waiting for me again. I'd go with her—yes, gladly—and live it all over."
(Oh, the harbor smell, and the water at the wharf-piles, and the lift of those sails far out! Would Mr. Bolliver have thought the same if he had stayed in his bow-front brick house in Boston, instead of venturing out against the spring in Resthaven?)
"Do you think the Gloria was as beautiful as the Fortune of the Indies?" Jane asked him. (Think of talking to a man who had sailed in the Gloria!)
"If the Fortune was as beautiful as her model," Mr. Bolliver said, "the Gloria could not match her—though she was a fine ship, a very fine ship, and quick in stays. The Fortune was a tricksy witch, your grandfather used to say. I think every one believed that no one but your great-grandfather could manage her. But the Gloria was a fine weatherly ship."
"Don't you think the model is very wonderful?" Jane's second question, this, which she hoped was tactful.
"Yes," said Mr. Bolliver, "quite wonderful. I am very proud and happy to own it."
