ow about one o'clock, for this dispute had ran away with the
best part of the morning, when Sir Hurricane said, "Come, youngster,
don't forget your engagements--you know I have got to introduce you to
my pretty cousins--you must mind your P's and Q's with the uncle, for
he is a sensible old fellow--has read a great deal, and thinks America
the first and greatest country in the world."

We accordingly proceeded to the residence of the fair strangers, whom
the admiral assured me had come to Halifax from mere curiosity, under
the protection of their uncle and aunt. We knocked at the door, and
the admiral inquired if Mrs M'Flinn was at home; we were answered
in the affirmative. The servant asked our names. "Vice Admiral Sir
Hurricane Humbug," said I, "and Mr Mildmay."

The drawing-room door was thrown open, and the man gave our names with
great propriety. In we walked; a tall, grave-looking, elderly lady
received us, standing bolt upright in the middle of the room; the
young ladies were seated at their work.

"My dear Mrs M'Flinn," said the admiral, "how do you do? I am
delighted to see you and your fair nieces looking so lovely this
morning."--The lady bowed to this compliment--a courtesy she was
not quite up to--"Allow me to introduce my gallant young friend,
Mildmay--young ladies, take care of your hearts--he is a great rogue,
I assure you, though he smiles so sweet upon you."

Mrs M'Flinn bowed again to me, hoped I was very well, and inquired
"how long I had been in these parts."

I replied that I had just returned from a cruise, but that I was no
stranger in Halifax.

"Come, officer," said the admiral, taking me by the arm, "I see you
are bashful--I must make you acquainted with my pretty cousins. This,
Sir, is Miss M'Flinn--her Christian name is Deliverance. She is a
young lady whose beauty is her least recommendation."

"A very equivocal compliment," thought I.

"This, Sir, is Miss Jemima; this is Miss Temperance; and this is Miss
Deborah. Now that you know them all by name, and they know you, I hope
you will contrive to make yourself both useful and agreeable."

"A very pretty sinecure," thinks I to myself, "just as if I had not my
hands full already." However, as I never wanted small talk for pretty
faces, I began with Jemima. They were all pretty, but she was a
love--yet there was an awkwardness about them that convinced me they
were not of the _bon ton_ of Philadelphia. The answers to all
my questions