“The captain seems to have made a strong impression upon you, and to have excited unusual interest for a stranger.” Amelia did not blush, because she did not understand what would ordinarily be inferred from such a remark as her mother’s. “I do not know when I have felt a greater interest for one of whom I know so little. But undoubtedly a part of the interest is mingled with curiosity. He is a man of some education, of much travel, and of more observation than masters of ships generally have. But there seems to be some event in his past life upon which he is strongly sensitive, and to which he is constantly referring; especially when a little feverish and in disturbed sleep.” “I need not say to you, my child, that you will hear as little of such involuntary talk as possible, and never repeat a word of it unless it be to _his_ advantage.” “I understand, mother. But I have already told the captain that I thought his scepticism was referable to some past event, and he seemed to be struck by the remark.” “You will find that you were correct; and you will discern, moreover, that while he is sceptical from _past_ occurrences, he postpones investigating the foundation of his opinions, on account of the interference which a correction of error would have on some _future_ event. Men deceive themselves, or try to, just as much as they try to deceive others; and the whole course of the immoral man is one of deception, self-deception, from which rarely any thing but death arouses him.” Amelia received some advice with regard to her conduct, and some instruction relative to her proposed argument, and then took leave of her mother to enter upon her turn of duty in the chamber of the captain, promising to return the next morning. But the next morning Mrs. Bertrand looked in vain for her daughter, and more than ever regretted that she herself was unable to share in the duties which Amelia assumed. It was not until evening that a lad came to the house, and brought a letter from Amelia, addressed to her mother. This is a copy of the letter hastily, but I believe faithfully made. _Thursday, Noon._ DEAR MOTHER,—You will wonder at my absence, and still more that, not returning in the morning, I did not send word to you; before I conclude this hasty note, you will see not only why I did not come, but why I now write. After some arrangements made for the night, the other attendant left me with the patient, who seemed unusually restless, and were it not for the large box in which his leg is confined, he certainly would have left the bed. I sought to soothe him, and it was only when I reopened the conversation of my former visit, that he seemed to forget his pain.