Morton coloured to the eyes, and gave a faint laugh. The fact was, that he was _not_ well; he had just been seized with a violent attack of a rather uncommon complaint, called “love at first sight.” He felt confused, he scarcely knew why, and he fancied everybody was noticing his confusion, which made him ten times worse. He laughed when he ought to have looked grave, and looked grave when he ought to have laughed, and was guilty of a thousand awkwardnesses, which attracted towards him the observation he wished to avoid. He strove manfully to look up the table, and down the table, and in every direction but that in which he wished to look; but his eyes would, somehow or another, have their own way in spite of him, and always contrived, at last, as naturally as possible, to direct their glances towards the neighbourhood of the turkey. It was with a feeling of positive relief he saw the ladies retire from the table; and no sooner were they gone than he became a rational man again, though rather more abstracted and silent than he had been before dinner. “That was rather a nice-looking girl sitting opposite to me at dinner,” remarked he, hesitatingly and inquiringly, to his friend Hardy, after they rose from table. “Do you know who she is?” “I have heard her name, but I forget it just now,” said the sailor; “but she is a devilish fine woman; I wonder the captain did not introduce you to her.” “Why, so he did; but he spoke so indistinctly that I could not catch the name.” At one bell in the second dog-watch (half-past six), the band made their appearance on deck; and no sooner were the lively strains of the music heard, than the ship’s company, always ready for “a lark,” came swarming up the hatchways, and the decks soon resounded with the sounds of the “fantastic,” but anything but “light” toe. “Come, gentlemen,” said Captain Dickens to his passengers, “won’t you follow the good example the men are setting you? Can’t you persuade the ladies to dance? Mr Morton, here is a fair lady for you to try your powers of persuasion upon,” looking at one who was walking beside him, and who made a movement of assent in reply to Morton’s bow. It was the fair one who had attracted so much of his attention at dinner. As the captain resigned her to his charge, Morton blushed, and stammered, and wished himself a hundred miles off, although he was in the very situation which, a few minutes before, he thought he could give worlds to occupy. What fools does love make of wise men! At last, the preliminaries were satisfactorily arranged, and the dance commenced; and, before its conclusion, the partners were mutually pleased with each other. “Well, Mr Morton,” said the captain, “I hope you enjoyed your dance?” “Very much indeed,” replied he; “I hope you do not feel fatigued, Miss Martyr.” “Miss who?” said the captain, laughing; “you are surely not going to make a _martyr_ of your partner.”