in high good humour; we were sitting over our bottle
of claret, after an excellent _tete-a-tete_ dinner, during which I
contributed very much to his amusement by the recital of some of my late
adventures. He shuddered at my danger in the hurricane, and his
good-humoured sides had well-nigh cracked with laughter when I recounted
my pranks at Quebec and Prince Edward's Island. When I spoke of Miss
Somerville, my father said he had no doubt she would be happy to see
me--that she was now grown a beautiful girl, and was the toast of the
county.

I received this information with an apparent cool indifference which I
was far from feeling inwardly, for my heart beat at the intelligence.
"Perhaps," said I, picking my teeth, and looking at my mouth in a little
ivory _etui_, "perhaps she may be grown a fine girl: she bade fair to be
so when I saw her; but fine girls are plentiful nowadays, since the
vaccine has turned out the small-pox. Besides, the girls have now
another chance of a good shape; they are allowed to take the air,
instead of sitting all day with their feet in the stocks and their dear
sweet noses bent over a French grammar under the rod of a French
governess."

Why I took so much pains to conceal from the best of parents the real
state of my heart, I know not, except that from habit deceit was to me
more readily at hand than candour, certainly my attachment to this fair
and virtuous creature could not cause me to blush, except at my own
unworthiness of so much excellence. My father looked disappointed--I
knew not why--but I afterwards learned that the subject of our union
had, since my brother's death, been discussed and agreed to between him
and Mr Somerville; and that our marriage was only to be deferred until
I should have attained the rank of captain, provided that the parties
were agreed.

"I thought," said my father, "that you were rather smitten in that
quarter?"

"Me smitten, sir?" said I, with a look of astonishment. "I have, it is
true, a very high respect for Miss Somerville; but as for being in love
with her, I trust no little attentions on my part have been so
construed. I have paid her no more attention than I may have done to
any pretty girl I meet with." (This was indeed true, too true.)

"Well, well," said my father, "it is a mistake on my part."

And here the conversation on that subject was dropped.

It appeared that after the little arrangement between Mr Somerville and
my father