“And handsome—and agreeable—and accomplished?”
“Something like yourself, my dear.”
“But handsome, I take it for granted, Miles,” observed Mr. Hardinge, “by the manner in which you have omitted to speak of her charms, in your letters!”
“Why sir, I think most persons—that is the world in general—I mean such as are not over-fastidious, would consider Miss Merton particularly handsome—agreeable in person and features, I would be understood to say.”
“Oh! you are sufficiently explicit; everybody can understand you,” added my laughing guardian, who had no more thought of getting me married to his own daughter, than to a German princess of a hundred and forty-five quarterings, if there are any such things; “some other time we will have the particulars of her eyes, hair, teeth, &c., &c.”
“Oh! sir, you may save me the trouble, by looking at her yourself, to-morrow, since she and her father are both here.”
“Here!” exclaimed all four in a breath; Lucy's extreme surprise extorting the monosyllable from her reserve, even a little louder than from the rest.
“Certainly, here; father, daughter, and servants; I dare say I omitted to speak of the servants in my letters, too; but a poor fellow who has a great deal to do, cannot think of everything in a minute. Major Merton has a touch of the liver complaint; and it would not do to leave him in a warm climate. So, no other chance offering, he is proceeding to England, by the way of America.”
“And how long had you these people on board your ship, Miles?” Grace asked, a little gravely.
“Actually on board, with myself, about nine months, I should think; but including the time in London, at Canton, and on the island, I should call our acquaintance one of rather more than a year's standing.”