THE NAVAL OFFICER.
99
CHAPTER IV.
'Twill be time to go home. What shall I say I have done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries it. I find my tongue is too fool-hardy.
Shakespeare
Reaching the well-known mansion of my father, I knocked softly at the front door, was admitted, and, without saying a word to the servant, rushed to the head of the dining-room table, and threw my arms round my mother's neck, who only screamed, "Good Heavens, my child!" and fell into hysterics. My father, who was in the very midst of helping his soup, jumped up to embrace me and assist my mother. The company all rose, like a covey of
