“Come, come,” said I, “this is a humbug; the girls are quite young; you just have heard their names.” “Well, perhaps so; only tell me which is your peculiar weakness, as they say in the west, and may be I’ll convince you.” “Oh, as to that,” said I, laughing, “I’m not very far gone on either side.” “Then, Matilda, probably, has not tried you with Cowley, eh?--you look a little pink--‘There are hearts that live and love alone.’ Oh, poor fellow, you’ve got it! By Jove, how you’ve been coming it, though, in ten days! She ought not to have got to that for a month, at least; and how like a young one it was, to be caught by the poetry. Oh, Master Charley, I thought that the steeple-chaser might have done most with your Galway heart,--the girl in the gray habit, that sings ‘Moddirederoo,’ ought to have been the prize! Halt! by Saint George, but that tickles you also! Why, zounds, if I go on, probably, at this rate, I’ll find a tender spot occupied by the ‘black lady’ herself.” It was no use concealing, or attempting to conceal, anything from my inquisitive friend; so I mixed my grog, and opened my whole heart; told how I had been conducting myself for the entire preceding fortnight; and when I concluded, sat silently awaiting Power’s verdict, as though a jury were about to pronounce upon my life. “Have you ever written?” “Never; except, perhaps, a few lines with tickets for the theatre, or something of that kind.” “Have you copies of your correspondence?” “Of course not. Why, what do you mean?” “Has Mrs. Dal ever been present; or, as the French say, has she assisted at any of your tender interviews with the young ladies?” “I’m not aware that one kisses a girl before mamma.” “I’m not speaking of that; I merely allude to an ordinary flirtation.” “Oh, I suppose she has seen me attentive.” “Very awkward, indeed! There is only one point in your favor; for as your attentions were not decided, and as the law does not, as yet, permit polygamy--” “Come, come, you know I never thought of marrying.” “Ah, but they did.” “Not a bit of it.” “Ay, but they did. What do you wager but that the major asks your intentions, as he calls it, the moment he hears the transport has arrived?” “By Jove! now you remind me, he asked this evening, when he could have a few minutes’ private conversation with me to-morrow, and I thought it was about some confounded military chest or sea-store, or one of his infernal contrivances that he every day assures me are indispensable; though, if every officer had only as much baggage as I have got, under his directions, it would take two armies, at least, to carry the effects of the fighting one.” “Poor fellow!” said he, starting upon his legs; “what a burst you’ve made of it!” So saying, he began in a nasal twang,-- “I publish the banns of marriage between Charles O’Malley, late of his Majesty’s 14th Dragoons, and ------ Dalrymple, spinster, of this city--”