; my trembling, blushing,
thrilling delight, when I saw Julia by his side!

Jowler seemed to blush too when he beheld me. I thought of my former
passages with his daughter. "Gagy my boy," says he, shaking hands, "glad
to see you. Old friend, Julia--come to tiffin--Hodgson's pale--brave
fellow Gagy." Julia did not speak, but she turned ashy pale, and fixed
upon me her awful eyes! I fainted almost, and uttered some incoherent
words. Julia took my hand, gazed at me still, and said, "Come!" Need I
say I went?

I will not go over the pale ale and currie-bhaut again; but this I know,
that in half an hour I was as much in love as I ever had been: and that
in three weeks I--yes, I--was the accepted lover of Julia! I did not
pause to ask where were the one hundred and twenty-four offers? why I,
refused before, should be accepted now? I only felt that I loved her,
and was happy!

*****

One night, one memorable night, I could not sleep, and, with a lover's
pardonable passion, wandered solitary through the city of palaces
until I came to the house which contained my Julia. I peeped into the
compound--all was still; I looked into the veranda--all was dark,
except a light--yes, one light--and it was in Julia's chamber! My heart
throbbed almost to stilling. I would--I WOULD advance, if but to gaze
upon her for a moment, and to bless her as she slept. I DID look, I DID
advance; and, O heaven! I saw a lamp burning, Mrs. Jow. in a nightdress,
with a very dark baby in her arms, and Julia looking tenderly at an
ayah, who was nursing another.

"Oh, mamma," said Julia, "what would that fool Gahagan say if he knew
all?"

"HE DOES KNOW ALL!" shouted I, springing forward, and tearing down the
tatties from the window. Mrs. Jow. ran shrieking out of the room, Julia
fainted, the cursed black children squalled, and their d----d nurse fell
on her knees, gabbling some infernal jargon of Hindustanee. Old Jowler
at this juncture entered with a candle and a drawn sword.

"Liar! scoundrel! deceiver!" shouted I. "Turn, ruffian, and defend
yourself!" But old Jowler, when he saw me, only whistled, looked at his
lifeless daughter, and slowly left the room.

Why continue the tale? I need not now account for Jowler's gloom on
receiving his letters from Benares--for his exclamation upon the death
of the Indian chief--for his desire to marry his daughter: the woman I
was wooing was no longer Miss Julia Jowler, she was Mrs. Chowder Loll!

CHAPTER I