\"mr. bell,\" he repeated. \"yes. he was my groom\"s-man.\"

margaret understood the association.

\"i will write to-day,\" said she. he sank again into listlessness. allmorning she toiled on, longing for rest, but in a continual whirl ofmelancholy business.

towards evening, dixon said to her:

\"i\"ve done it, miss. i was really afraid for master, that he\"d hāve a strokewith grief. he\"s been all this day with poor missus; and when i\"velistened at the door, i\"ve heard him talking to her, and talking to her, asif she was alive. when i went in he would be quite quiet, but all in amaze like. so i thought to myself, he ought to be roused; and if it giveshim a shock at first, it will, maybe, be the better afterwards. so i\"vebeen and told him, that i don\"t think it\"s safe for master frederick to behere. and i don\"t. it was only on tuesday, when i was out, that i met-asouthampton man--the first i\"ve seen since i came to milton; they don\"tmake their way much up here, i think. well, it was young leonards, oldleonards the draper\"s son, as great a scamp as ever lived--who plaguedhis father almost to death, and then ran off to sea. i never could abidehim. he was in the orion at the same time as master frederick, i know;though i don\"t recollect if he was there at the mutiny.\"

\"did he know you?\" said margaret, eagerly.

\"why, that\"s the worst of it. i don\"t believe he would hāve known me butfor my being such a fool as to call out his name. he were asouthampton man, in a strange place, or else i should never hāve beenso ready to call cousins with him, a nasty, good-for-nothing fellow.

says he, \"miss dixon! who would ha\" thought of seeing you here? but

perhaps i mistake, and you\"re miss dixon no longer?\" so i told him hemight still address me as an unmarried lady, though if i hadn\"t been soparticular, i\"d had good chances of matrimony. he was polite enough:

//t，，

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