Desk and Debit by Oliver Optic

There was scarcely a breath of wind when we weighed anchor. Mr. Whippleton insisted upon running up to the Florina, in order to leave his tender, and to obtain certain articles he had left on board. The breeze entirely failed before we had made half the distance, and we were obliged to anchor again to prevent being drifted ashore. Mr. Whippleton and old Peter took both the tenders, and visited the Florina, leaving Marian and myself alone again.

"I am so thankful that you had no quarrel," said she, as we sat together in the standing-room, watching the receding boats.