"I adore genius, Mr. Titmarsh," said the young lady, with a most killing look of her beautiful blue eyes, "and I have every one of your works by heart--all, except the last, which I can't endure. I think it's wicked, positively wicked--My darling Scott--how can you? And are you going to make a Christmas-book this year?" "Shall I tell you about it?" "Oh, do tell us about it," said the lively, charming creature, clapping her hands: and we began to talk, being near Lavinia (Mrs. Milliken) and her husband, who was ceaselessly occupied in fetching and carrying books, biscuits, pillows and cloaks, scent-bottles, the Italian greyhound, and the thousand and one necessities of the pale and interesting bride. Oh, how she did fidget! how she did grumble! how she altered and twisted her position! and how she did make poor Milliken trot! After Miss Fanny and I had talked, and I had told her my plan, which she pronounced to be delightful, she continued:--"I never was so provoked in my life, Mr. Titmarsh, as when that odious man came and interrupted that dear delightful conversation." "On your word? The odious man is on board the boat: I see him smoking just by the funnel yonder, look! and looking at us." "He is very stupid," said Fanny; "and all that I adore is intellect, dear Mr. Titmarsh." "But why is he on board?" said I, with a fin sourire. "Why is he on board? Why is everybody on board? How do we meet? (and oh, how glad I am to meet you again!) You don't suppose that I know how the horrid man came here?" "Eh! he may be fascinated by a pair of blue eyes, Miss Fanny! Others have been so," I said. "Don't be cruel to a poor girl, you wicked, satirical creature," she said. "I think Captain Hicks odious--there! and I was quite angry when I saw him on the boat. Mamma does not know him, and she was so angry with me for dancing with him that night: though there was nobody of any particular mark at poor dear Mrs. Perkins's--that is, except YOU, Mr. Titmarsh." "And I am not a dancing man," I said, with a sigh. "I hate dancing men; they can do nothing but dance." "O yes, they can. Some of them can smoke, and some can ride, and some of them can even spell very well." "You wicked, satirical person. I'm quite afraid of you!" "And some of them call the Rhine the 'Whine,'" I said, giving an admirable imitation of poor Hicks's drawling manner. Fanny looked hard at me, with a peculiar expression on her face. At last she laughed. "Oh, you wicked, wicked man," she said, "what a capital mimic you are, and so full of cleverness! Do bring up Captain Hicks--isn't that his name?--and trot him out for us. Bring him up, and introduce him to mamma: do now, go!"