While we chatted, Mr. and Mrs. Lorrimer were announced. Nobody expected them, but they were welcome. Old Mr. Lorrimer was a ship-chandler in a rather big way. He was a vestige of the dead century, and, saving the wig, went clothed almost exactly as his father had. I see him now with his frill, stockings, snuff-box, and the company smirk that was in vogue when he was a boy. He engaged my uncle in talk; my aunt and Mrs. Lorrimer drew chairs together, and Captain Butler and I paired at a little distance from the others.
I liked this man so much, I admired him so greatly; I had fallen so much in love with him, indeed, at the first sight of his handsome, winning face, that I found myself talking as freely as though we had known each other for years. I told him that I lived with my stepfather in the house that was my own, that my life was as dull as a sermon, that I found no pleasure in life outside my lonely rambles, which I described to him. I thought he looked grave when I told him I would be away from my home for two or three nights at a time.
‘Every girl wants a mother,’ said he.
‘And a father,’ said I; ‘but she can’t keep them.’
‘Why don’t you go a voyage?’
‘I have never thought of going a voyage.’
‘The world is a fine show,’ said he. ‘It is well worth seeing. You are rich, and should see the world while you are young enough to enjoy the sight.’
‘I have five hundred a year,’ said I.
‘You are rich, Miss Johnstone, nevertheless,’ said he; and his eyes made a very clear allusion to my face and figure—a more intelligible reference than had he spoken.
‘I have a good mind to go a voyage,’ said I. ‘I am sick of my life, I assure you. I hate my stepfather, and for all that I am rich, as you call it, I am as much alone as if I had been left to the parish. Oh, yes,’ said I, following his glance, ‘uncle and aunt are dear to me and I love them, but——’ And I lay back in my chair and yawned and stretched out my arms.