if he had been any handsome heir. Mercedes would sit with them sometimes, and then go into her parlor, where she would try to play a little, and then, as they supposed, would read. But books, before these realities of life, failed her. What she really did I hardly know. She wrote one letter to young Harleston Bowdoin, and he answered it; and then a second, which was still unanswered.
One night "the mother" spoke to Jamie of the girl: "’Tis a comely lass. I suppose you're proud you were adopting her?"
Old Jamie's face was always red as a winter apple, but his eyes blushed. "Anybody'd 'a' done that, mither,—such a lady as she is!"
"What'll ye be doin' of her after I'm gone? The pirate father'll come a-claimin' of her."
Jamie looked as if the pirate captain then might meet his match.
"Jamie, my son—have ye never thought o' marryin' her your own sel'? I'd like to see you with a wife before I go."
There was no doubt that Jamie was blushing now.
