"Well, you see, we now and then have a row--she goes to balls and stays out all night, and then I blow up a bit--but it all comes right again, and I buy her a lot of diamonds, and that makes it up." (Jerry was a little adrift here, so he replied in what he considered the correct style in high life.) "Oh!" thought Oldcrackle, "that's what Helen means by B. B.; well, although he is not bad looking, he is by far too rough a fellow for a gentle being like her;" and then the old merchant thought what a different match the girl would have made if she had only waited for him. Thompson now lighted a cigar, and puffed away like a locomotive, to avoid answering further questions. At this moment a very pretty half-caste girl glided into the verandah, and taking her place behind the merchant's chair, commenced to fan him. Alaya was a great pet of Oldcrackle, her father having died in his service, and we will do the merchant the justice to say, he was a kind master, both to the widow and daughter--the latter having budded into womanhood without any one regarding her otherwise than as a child. "Well, Alaya," said her master, "do you see the captain sahib?" The girl nodded and smiled at Jerry. "Go and fan him, child." Alaya walked round, and taking position behind the coxswain's chair--so close that he felt her balmy breath upon his forehead--proceeded to cool his face with a soft and gentle motion of her fan, at the same time looking down upon him, from under her long silken eyelashes, in a manner that would have seduced a much less susceptible individual than our sailor. "Oh Lor! ain't that lovely!" ejaculated the coxswain, as leaning back he brought his eyes to bear upon those of the lovely girl, who fanned and smiled--smiled and gazed upon him, until Jerry, instead of being cool, was in a high state of fever. Oldcrackle was all this time gazing upon Mrs. Puffeigh's portrait; and as he slightly turned his back upon _her husband_ when he did this, failed to observe the little flirtation going on at the other side of the verandah, although the moon was shining brightly. At last he said, in a dreamy kind of manner, "Ah! she's a lovely creature." "Werry," echoed the sailor, pursing his lips, and blowing kisses towards the delighted girl by his side. "You're very fond--of--her--are--you--not!" mused the merchant, who was half asleep, and almost dreaming of his English cousin--(she did not paint when he knew her). "Werry." Saying which Jerry, seeing his host was now asleep, placed his arm round the supple waist of the girl, and drawing her towards him, gave her a sounding kiss. Oldcrackle woke with a start, and sat bolt upright in his chair, calling out, "What's that?" Upon turning round towards his guest, he saw the latter with his hand held to his cheek, as if he had just slapped it in order to crush some insect. "What's that, Puffeigh?"