“I have pointed out to you your work for the next eight or nine months, miss, and I shall hope to see you fashionably heartless when we land in India. But for the present, which of the two gentlemen that have been designated as our bond-slaves for the voyage will you attach to your service?” “Oh, pray, miss, oblige me by choosing first,” said I. “Then I choose Mr Ranger,” said she, quickly. “I’m quite content to take Mr Fraser,” said I, well pleased. “That’s as I should have guessed. I have chose Mr Ranger because he is the more entertaining to me, but if I were acting the part of a true friend by you, miss, I should have taken the Lieutenant.” “Indeed, miss, I’ll assure you he pleases me vastly the better of the two.” “So I foresaw. A witty blade like Mr Ranger would have no charms for you, miss, but this Scottish gentleman, with his tags of philosophy and his turn for relating his troubles in a moving style, is a dangerous person to meet a young lady that possesses a heart and has but just left her boarding-school.” “I hope, miss, you wasn’t intending a sneer at my bringing-up?” “Not for the world, though I will say that my grandmamma is a better instructor for adventurers like you and me than the venerable ladies I saw this morning. But tell me, miss, do you purpose to inform your Fraser of the terms on which he is permitted the honour of your acquaintance--that he is to run your errands and not fall in love with you?” “Pray, miss, do you look for me to suggest to the gentleman that I expect him to do any such thing?” “But you’ll allow that such a thing is at least possible? Come, miss, prudence should lead you to anticipate calamities, you know. What is to happen if Mr Fraser should have the presumption to lay his heart at your feet, or even--an extraordinary wild supposition, I grant you--if your heart should betray you, and you fall in love with him?” My Amelia will guess I was so horridly confused by these remarks that I was at a loss how to answer Miss Hamlin, but at last I got out something to the effect that I hoped I should do my duty in any case. “But will you break the poor fellow’s heart as well as your own, miss?” persisted my tormentor. “I trust, miss,” said I, “that there’ll be no question of such an unhappy event. I give you free leave to warn me, and Mr Fraser also, if you will, if you think either of us to be in danger.” “I promise you I will,” says she; “and finely you’ll hate me when ’tis done.” With that she left me, and I sat up to write this. But here I must cease, for my candle is burning low in its socket, and Miss Hamlin has just tapped again at my door to ask me whether I desire to make my last night in Britain memorable by setting the inn afire. _Hon. Co.’s Ship Orford, off_ Hastings, _Nov. ye_ 28_th._