Here the admiral, who had been making by-play with the old chaperon, turned round, and said: 

“Well, Mr Frank, I see you are getting on pretty well without my assistance.”

“Oh, we all like him very much,” said Temperance; “and he says he will take us on board his ship.”

“Softly, my dear,” said the aunt:  “we must not think of giving the gentleman the trouble, until we are better acquainted.”

“I am sure, aunt,” said Deborah, “we are very well acquainted.”

“Then,” said the aunt, seeing she was in the minority, “suppose you and Sir Hurricane come and breakfast with us to-morrow morning at eleven o’clock, after which, we shall all be very much at your service.”

Here the admiral looked at me with one of his impudent leers, and burst into a loud laugh; but I commanded my countenance very well, and rebuked him by a steady and reserved look.

“I shall have great pleasure,” said I, to the lady, “in obeying your orders from eleven to-morrow morning, till the hour of dinner, when I am engaged.”

So saying, we both bowed, wished them a good morning, and left the room.  The door closed upon us, and I heard them all exclaim—­“What a charming young man!”

I went on board, and told the first lieutenant what I had done; he, very good-naturedly, said he would do his best, though the ship was not in order for showing, and would have a boat ready for us at the dock-yard stairs at one o’clock the next day.

I went to breakfast at the appointed hour.  The admiral did not appear, but the ladies were all in readiness, and I was introduced to their uncle—­a plain, civil-spoken man, with a strong nasal twang.  The repast was very good; and as I had a great deal of work before me, I made hay while the sun shone.  When the rage of hunger had been a little appeased, I made use of the first belle to inquire if a lady whom I once had the honour of knowing, was any relation of theirs, as she bore the same name, and came, like them, from Philadelphia.

“Oh, dear, yes, indeed, she is a relation,” said all the ladies together; “we have not seen her this seven years, when did you see her last?”

I replied that we had not met for some time; but that the last time I had heard of her, she was seen by a friend of mine at Turin on the Po.  The last syllable was no sooner out of my mouth, than tea, coffee, and chocolate was out of theirs, all spirting different ways, just like so many young grampuses.  They jumped up from the table and ran away to their rooms, convulsed with laughter, leaving me alone with their uncle.  I was all amazement, and I own felt a little annoyed.

I asked if I had made any serious lapsus, or said any thing very ridiculous or indelicate; if I had, I said I should never forgive myself.