of a woman at my nuptials, but simply that he
was to act in the character of a bride's-maid. The difficulties which
beset him will be best explained by his last remark on this occasion, and
with which I shall close this discourse. "Had I been brought up in a
decent family," he said, "instead of having been set afloat on a
tombstone, matrimony wouldn't have been such unknown seas to me. But, you
know how it is, Miles, with a fellow that has no relations. He may laugh,
and sing, and make as much noise as he pleases, and try to make others
think he's in good company the whole time; but, after all, he's nothing
but a sort of bloody hermit, that's travelling through life, all the same
as if he was left with a few pigs on a desert island. Make-believe is much
made use of in this world, but it won't hold out to the last. Now of all
mortal beings that I ever met with, you've fallen in with her that has
least of it. There's some make-believe about you, Miles, as when you
looked so bloody unconcerned all the time you were ready to die of love,
as I now l'arn, for the young woman you're about to marry: and mother has
a little of it, dear old soul, when she says she's perfectly satisfied
with the son the Lord has given her, for I'm not so blasted virtuous but I
might be better; and little Kitty has lots of it when she pretends she
would as soon have one kiss from me as two from young Bright; but, as for
Lucy Hardinge, I will say that I never saw any more make-believe about
her, than was becoming in a young woman."

This speech proved that Moses was a man of observation. Others might have
drawn seemingly nicer shades of character, but this sincerity of feeling,
truth of conduct, and singleness of purpose, formed the distinguishing
traits of Lucy's virtues. I was excessively gratified at finding that
Marble rightly appreciated one who was so very, very dear to me, and took
care to let him know as much, as soon as he had made his speech.

We were met by the negroes, at the distance of half a mile from the
house. Neb acted as master of the ceremonies, or, commodore would be the
better word, for he actually carried a bit of swallow-tail bunting that
was borrowed from the sloop, and there was just as much of ocean in the
symbols used, as comported with the honours manifested to a seaman. Old
Cupid carried the Wallingford's ensign, and a sort of _harlequinade_ had
been made out of marlinspikes, serving mallets, sail-maker's palms, and
fi