Now that this nervous beauty was gone, the conversation became much more lively. Captain Moreland was a jovial sailor, who had made ten voyages to China, fifteen to Constantinople, twenty to St Petersburg, and innumerable ones to Liverpool and through his exertions had amassed the large fortune which he was now enjoying. He was a merry-hearted man, with excellent sound sense on all points except one--that one being the fair sex, with which he was about as well acquainted as an alligator with a camera-obscure. The attentions paid to him by Arthurine seemed to please the old bachelor uncommonly. There was a mixture of kindness, malice, and fascination in her manner, which was really enchanting; even the matter-of-fact Richards could not take his eyes off her. "That is certainly a charming girl!" whispered he to me. "Did not I tell you so?" said I. "Only observe with what sweetness she gives in to the old man's humours and fancies!" The hours passed like minutes. Supper was long over, and we rose to depart; when I shook hands with Arthurine, she pressed mine gently. I was in the ninety-ninth heaven. "Now, boys," cried worthy Moreland, as soon as we were in the streets, "it would really be a pity to part so early on so joyous an evening. What do you say? Will you come to my house, and knock the necks off half a dozen bottles?" We agreed to this proposal; and, taking the old seaman between us, steered in the direction of his cabin, as he called his magnificent and well-furnished house. "What a delightful family those Bowsends are!" exclaimed Moreland, as soon as we were comfortably seated beside a blazing fire, with the Lafitte and East India Madeira sparkling on the table beside us. "And what charming girls! 'You're getting oldish,' says I to myself the other day, 'but you're still fresh and active, sound as a dolphin. Better get married.' Margaret pleased me uncommonly, so I"-- "Yes, my dear Moreland," interrupted I, "but are you sure that you please her?" "Pshaw! Five times a hundred thousand dollars! I tell you what, my lad, that's not to be met with every day." "Fifty years old," replied I. "Certainly, fifty years old, but stout and healthy; none of your spindle-shanked dandies--your Stauntons"-- But Staunton smokes cigars, and not Dutch pipes." "I give that up. For Miss Margaret's sake, I'll burn my nose and mouth with those damned stumps of cigars." "Drinks no whisky," continued I. "He is president of a temperance society." "The devil fly away with him!" growled Moreland; "I wouldn't give up my whisky for all the girls in the world." "If you don't, she'll always be fainting away," replied I, laughing. "Ah! It's because I talked of the Monongahela that she began with her hystericals, and went away for all the evening! That's where the wind sits, is it? Well, you may depend I ain't to be done out of my grog at any rate."