I should like t' have seen you milk Black Nell,' addressing Sylvia.
'Yo'd better come to-morrow e'en, and see what a hand she'll mak' on her,' said Kester.
'To-morrow night I shall be far on my road back to Shields.' 'To-morrow!' said Sylvia, suddenly looking up at him, and then dropping her eyes, as she found he had been watching for the effect of his intelligence on her.
'I mun be back at t' whaler, where I'm engaged,' continued he.
'She's fitting up after a fresh fashion, and as I've been one as wanted new ways, I mun be on the spot for t' look after her.

Maybe I shall take a run down here afore sailing in March.

I'm sure I shall try.' There was a good deal meant and understood by these last few words.
The tone in which they were spoken gave them a tender intensity not lost upon either of the hearers.

Kester cocked his eye once more, but with as little obtrusiveness as he could, and pondered the sailor's looks and ways.

He remembered his coming about the place the winter before, and how the old master had then appeared to have taken to him; but at that time Sylvia had seemed to Kester too little removed from a child to have either art or part in Kinraid's visits; now, however, the case was different.