It is true, that the sick passenger who was every body's favorite, though a lawyer, was indeed Horatio Markham, and that the climate had not agreed with him; but his illness was not a dangerous illness; and Clara had very little reason indeed to suppose it was he, and still less reason to apprehend a fatal termination of his indisposition. Her imagination, however, had been excited, and her sensibilities had been nourished with unwholesome food. Happy, indeed, was it for her that she did not for a certainty know that Markham was returned, and that he had suffered illness from the climate. Had she known that, it would have been more difficult to restore her to health. As it was, the task was difficult and tedious. The indisposition kept the party longer at the sea-side than their original intention, and during the whole of that time Mr. Tippetson remained there too. Signora Rivolta, the only one of the party who was tired of his company, could not with any propriety use any means to get rid of him: he therefore continued paying his attentions, and almost his addresses, to Clara. He really fancied himself in love with her, and he was not quite so great a blockhead as not to observe that Clara was far superior to Miss Henderson. Old Mr. Martindale observed nothing in the young gentleman's attentions, but was pleased with his cunning homage and dexterous flattery. Signora Rivolta never contradicted though she did not cordially coincide with her father, when he was pleased to say, as he very frequently did, "that young Tippetson is a pleasant man, and really not such a fool as he looks." The Signora knew that the old gentleman had a mode of arguing peculiar to himself, whereby he proved to a demonstration the truth of every fancy or crotchet that came into his head. It is no easy matter to confute a rich old man.