"Yes, she is a nice-looking boat," Bertha agreed, "and if her sails
were white and her ropes neat and trim, she would look like a
yacht, except for those big yards."
"Her skipper must be a lubber to have the ropes hanging about like
that. Of course, he may have had bad weather in crossing the bay,
but if he had any pride in the craft, he might at least have got
her into a good deal better trim while coming in from the Needles.
Still, all that could be remedied in an hour's work, and certainly
she is as pretty a trader as ever I saw. How did your mother seem
this afternoon, Bertha?"
"About the same, I think. I don't feel at all anxious about her,
because I have often seen her like this before. I think really,
Frank, that she is quite well enough to go up to town; but she
knows that I am enjoying myself so much that she does not like to
take me away. I have no doubt that she will find herself better by
Saturday, when, you know, we arranged some time back that we would
go up. You won't be long before you come, will you?"
"Certainly not. Directly you have landed I shall take the Osprey to
Gosport, and lay her up there. I need not stop to see that done.
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