or rather
as her equal. She always anxiously awaited his return from sea, though
she did not, in her more youthful days, exactly understand why. When her
beauty brought wealth and rank to her feet, she could not avoid
comparing their possessors with the nautical absentee.

"Sir Reginald Bentley is not half so handsome a man as George; Lord
Dormington, although he has travelled over all Europe, and has besides a
seat in the House of Lords, is not, after all, half so well informed as
George; the Honorable Adolphus Fitz William dresses very expensively and
fashionably, but his clothes do not fit him so well as George's; and as
for that wine-swilling brute, Squire Foxley, I would not be condemned to
marry such a man for the world." So she dismissed them all, "cum multis
aliis."

On the other hand, her father had acquired as much affection for George
as for a son, and treated him as such; though he never dreamed that his
daughter might from his behavior be led one day to select him as a
husband. When his daughter rejected one wealthy or titled suitor after
another, he thought nothing strange of it; Sir Reginald was a gambler,
his lordship a fool, Fitz William a dandy, Foxley a sot, and so of the
rest; he only saw in her rejection of them proofs that she possessed
more good sense and prudence than he was generally willing to admit
that any of her sex possessed.

About two years before the events mentioned in the beginning of this
chapter, George had sailed on his first voyage as master of the ship
Hebe. He had been gone about five months, and Julia, with a feeling that
she did not pretend to understand or think to analyze, had been day
after day inquiring about him, when one evening her father informed her
that the Hebe had arrived safely in London. The joy that she felt and
expressed in the most lively manner, was damped by the farther
intelligence that he was to return to Barbadoes as soon as possible,
without visiting Effingham House. When she retired to her chamber, she
seated herself by the window, and seriously began to ask herself why she
felt such pleasure at hearing of his safe arrival, and why the
disappointment at not seeing him was so exceedingly painful. Her own
good sense answered the question, after a short reflection.

"It is, it must be love; I _do_ love him, and that most sincerely;" and
she gave way to a burst of irrepressible but soothing tears. "And why
should I not?" she reasoned, "is he not every t