After leaving the Cape of Good Hope, everything continued in the same agreeable course as before until we were past the island of St Johanne.[2.05] We had taken in water early in the day, and weighed anchor in good time, in order to avoid the dangerous reefs guarding the harbour, and in the evening we were sailing on an agreeable breeze which was sufficient to fill the sails, without making the ship heel over. (Pardon these nautical terms, my dear. They will come to my pen, even now.) Mr Fraser and I were sitting near the binnacle (which is an odd sort of stand on which the mariner’s compass is placed), and the Lieutenant was reckoning out very seriously how much time must elapse before he might decently ask for leave to visit his cousin at Calcutta, supposing that he found his ship in harbour when we arrived at Madrass, and was permitted to rejoin her. Having satisfied (or perhaps I should rather say dissatisfied) himself on this head, he asked whether he might have the honour of paying his respects to me at my papa’s house. To this I could say nothing but that it wasn’t for me to dictate to Mr Freyne what persons he should repulse from his doors; but Mr Fraser, seeming not to be content with this, seized my hand suddenly, and was vastly urgent with me to say whether it would cause me any pleasure should he come. The more warmly he demanded an answer, the more rigidly I refused one (for you know one can’t always yield to these fellows, my dear; their conceit is already so enormous), and he was going on to denounce me as a cruel coquette that lived but to torment him, when Miss Hamlin, who had been sitting upon the steps of the poop, drew near with Mr Ranger. I won’t deny that I considered her coming unnecessary, but I had no heart to think of that when once she began to speak. “You was assisting Mr Fraser to reckon up the time that must pass before he visits Bengall, miss, was you not?” said she. “Now I would prophesy that the gentleman will arrive in Calcutta just in time for the wedding-day of the lovely and accomplished daughter of Henry Freyne, Esq.” I would have given worlds not to blush, my Amelia; but the words were accompanied with so provoking and malicious a glance that I felt the traitorous red rise all over my face and neck. Miss Hamlin, marking it, smiled, and addressed herself to Mr Fraser. “I fear, sir,” she said, “that Miss Freyne han’t exhibited to you the full merit of her conduct in undertaking this voyage to the Indies. You must know that she and I are not bent upon seeking pleasure for ourselves, but on laying out what my aunt Hamlin calls our fortunes to the best advantage. Our parents (or guardians) intend--and we are fully determined to second their efforts--to marry us to a couple of frightful old Nabobs, each with a face as yellow as his guineas, and a liver as large as his money-bags. Now pray, miss,” turning suddenly to me, “shriek out and fall into a fit at the indelicacy of my language; pray do!”