There
could be no doubt that he meant all he said. Celia's cheeks were pink
with excitement; Mrs. Birch's were of a similar hue, in sympathy with
her daughter's joy.
"I tell you, that girl Charlotte," began the captain again, "deserves
all anybody can do for her. She has developed three years in one. Fond
as I've always been of her, I hadn't the least idea what was in the
child. She's going to make a woman of a rare sort. Look here!" A new
idea flashed into his mind.
He considered it for the space of a half-minute, then brought it forth:
"Let me take her, too. Not for the year--don't look as if I'd hit you,
Helen--just till October. I mean to sail in ten days, you know. I've
engaged plenty of room. There'll be no trouble about a berth----"
"O Uncle Ray!" Celia interrupted him. There could be no question about
her unselfish soul. If she had been happy before, she was rapturous now.
"Three months will give her quite a journey," the captain hurried on,
leaving nobody any time for objections. "I'll see that she gets art
enough out of it to fill her to the brim with inspiration.
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