And then he presented his visitors to his family: “The Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Ely, my dears. The Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Breton. The Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal.” —“Miss Conyers—the young lady’s name is Conyers,” whispered Mrs. Breton, in a panic. But of all the hurried, low-toned explanation the unfortunate host heard only the names, and he corrected his mistake and made matters worse by exclaiming: “Bless my life and soul, yes! I beg your pardon, sir and madam.” Then, turning again to his family group, he presented the young people over again as—“My dears, the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Conyers.” Britomarte’s cheeks were scarlet. But Justin smiled with perfect self-possession and some little amusement as he shook hands all around, saying as he did so: “I am not so happy. The young lady by my side is Miss Conyers; but it is not the fault of Justin Rosenthal, at your service, that she is so.” The good minister uttered another: “Bless my life and soul!” And then he laughed and stretched forth his hand, saying: “But you see the mistake was so natural on my part. Here is a party of missionaries on the way to India! And here is one young couple and here is another young couple; and here are two more young people, and what so natural as to take them for a third young couple? But I beg your pardon, Miss Conyers, I am sure!” “And he ‘won’t do so no more!’—will you, papa dear?” said Miss Mary, who seemed to be the privileged romp of the family. “Indeed I will not; until you give me the right,” laughed the minister. Miss Conyers responded by a grave, severe bow; she could not easily recover her equanimity. But Justin begged to assure his host that he, for his part, suffered under no sense of injury. Mr. Burney laughingly replied that he should imagine he did not. And so the affair passed off. When the party were all seated comfortably in the easy chairs and on the sofas of the drawing-room, that looked so exactly like their drawing-rooms at home that they could almost have supposed themselves transported by magic back to America, their host, with his hands upon his knees and his head bent eagerly forward, said: “Your ship will be in port here some days, I hope?” “No. We sail on Saturday.” “Bless my life and soul!” exclaimed this good man, who was given to imploring benedictions upon his own head. “You sail on Saturday, and this is Thursday. Well, well! You must make the most of your time and we must make the most of you. You must remain with us while the ship is in port. Not a word now! I will take no denial.” Nor did he, and, indeed, it required very little persuasion to induce the voyagers to share Mr. Burney’s hospitality. The intervening days were spent delightfully in sight-seeing, and it was with real regret they bade the good people adieu and returned to the ship. For two weeks they were blessed with fine weather and a fair wind.