This was the merriest evening I had ever spent in my life. I sat at supper between Captain Butler and Will, and had never felt happier. My spirits were in a dance. I laughed even at poor old Mr. Lorrimer’s jokes. After supper Captain Butler sang a song, and I liked it so well that I begged him to sing another. Then I sang. The old people sat down to whist in a corner. Captain Butler, Will, and I chatted, and so slipped that evening away; till I was startled on lifting my eyes to the clock to see that it was almost eleven. How should I get home? Should I walk or drive? I stepped to the window and parted the curtains and saw the stars shining. ‘It is a fine night,’ said I. ‘Will, give me your company, and I’ll walk. I hate your coaches.’ ‘Your way is my way, I believe,’ said Captain Butler. ‘May I accompany you?’ I went upstairs to put on my bonnet. My aunt accompanied me. She lighted candles beside a looking-glass, and I saw that my cheeks were red and that my eyes shone like diamonds. ‘I believe that you have made a conquest to-night, my dear,’ said my aunt. ‘A conquest has been made,’ I answered. ‘He is a very handsome fellow. And now you shall tell me that he is married.’ ‘No more than you are.’ ‘Engaged to be married, then?’ ‘I’ll not answer that. Sailors are sailors.’ ‘I have thoroughly enjoyed myself,’ said I, kissing her. ‘Do you think, my dear, that it is quite in order you should ask Captain Butler to dine with you to-morrow?’ ‘Quite in order, aunt. If I am not to do what I like I will drown myself.’ But I kissed her again after I had said this as an apology for the strength with which I had spoken, and went downstairs. Will and Captain Butler saw me to my house. The streets were pretty full and flaring. The night fine. I took Will’s arm, and the three of us went along leisurely past the Mint into Leman Street, and so into the Commercial Road. No very romantic walk, truly, though in this great world the woods and groves of the poets are not the only haunts of emotion. There is sentiment in the East as well as in the West; and in what do the passions of Whitechapel differ from those of Tyburnia?