m a present
of a cask of Monongahela."

"I envy him that present," cried Moreland. "A glass of genuine
Monongahela is worth any money."

This second shock was far too violent to be resisted by Margaret's
delicate nerves. She sank back in her chair, half fainting, half
hysterical. Her maids were called in, and with their help she managed
to leave the room.

"Have you brought her a book?" said Arthurine to me.

"Yes, one of Walter Scott's."

"Oh! then she will soon be well again," rejoined the affectionate
sister, apparently by no means alarmed.

Now that this nervous beauty was gone, the conversation became much
more lively. Captain Moreland was a jovial sailor, who had made ten
voyages to China, fifteen to Constantinople, twenty to St Petersburg,
and innumerable ones to Liverpool and through his exertions had
amassed the large fortune which he was now enjoying. He was a
merry-hearted man, with excellent sound sense on all points except
one--that one being the fair sex, with which he was about as well
acquainted as an alligator with a camera-obscure. The attentions paid
to him by Arthurine seemed to please the old bachelor uncommonly.
There was a mixture of kindness, malice, and fascination in her
manner, which was really enchanting; even the matter-of-fact Richards
could not take his eyes off her.

"That is certainly a charming girl!" whispered he to me.

"Did not I tell you so?" said I. "Only observe with what sweetness
she gives in to the old man's humours and fancies!"

The hours passed like minutes. Supper was long over, and we rose to
depart; when I shook hands with Arthurine, she pressed mine gently. I
was in the ninety-ninth heaven.

"Now, boys," cried worthy Moreland, as soon as we were in the
streets, "it would really be a pity to part so early on so joyous an
evening. What do you say? Will you come to my house, and knock the
necks off half a dozen bottles?"

We agreed to this proposal; and, taking the old seaman between us,
steered in the direction of his cabin, as he called his magnificent
and well-furnished house.

"What a delightful family those Bowsends are!" exclaimed Moreland, as
soon as we were comfortably seated beside a blazing fire, with the
Lafitte and East India Madeira sparkling on the table beside us. "And
what charming girls! 'You're getting oldish,' says I to myself the
other day, 'but you're still fresh and active, sound as a dolphin.
Better get married.' Margaret pleased me u