His possession of this was ascribed by all persons of a thoughtful turn
to his ownership of that well-built schooner the London Trader. Sailing
as she did, when the weather was fine, nearly every other week, for
London, and returning with equal frequency, to the women who had never
been ten miles from home she was a mystery and a watchword. Not one of
them would allow lad of hers to join this romantic galleon, and tempt
the black cloud of the distance; neither did Mr. Cheeseman yearn (for
reasons of his own about city prices) to navigate this good ship with
natives. Moreover, it was absurd, as he said, with a keen sense of his
own cheapness, to suppose that he could find the funds to buy and ply
such a ship as that!
Truth is a fugitive creature, even when she deigns to be visible, or
even to exist. The truth of Mr. Cheeseman's statement had existed, but
was long since flown. Such was his worth that he could now afford to buy
the London Trader three times over, and pay ready money every time. But
when he first invested hard cash in her--against the solid tears of his
prudent wife--true enough it was that he could only scrape together one
quarter of the sum required. Mrs. Cheeseman, who was then in a condition
of absorbing interest with Polly, made it her last request in this
world--for she never expected to get over it--that Jemmy should not
run in debt on a goose-chase, and fetch her poor spirit from its grave
again.
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