"But why is he on board?" said I, with a fin sourire.
"Why is he on board? Why is everybody on board? How do we meet? (and oh, how glad I am to meet you again!) You don't suppose that I know how the horrid man came here?"
"Eh! he may be fascinated by a pair of blue eyes, Miss Fanny! Others have been so," I said.
"Don't be cruel to a poor girl, you wicked, satirical creature," she said. "I think Captain Hicks odious—there! and I was quite angry when I saw him on the boat. Mamma does not know him, and she was so angry with me for dancing with him that night: though there was nobody of any particular mark at poor dear Mrs. Perkins's—that is, except YOU, Mr. Titmarsh."
"And I am not a dancing man," I said, with a sigh.
"I hate dancing men; they can do nothing but dance."
"O yes, they can. Some of them can smoke, and some can ride, and some of them can even spell very well."
"You wicked, satirical person. I'm quite afraid of you!"
"And some of them call the Rhine the 'Whine,'" I said, giving an admirable imitation of poor Hicks's drawling manner.
Fanny looked hard at me, with a peculiar expression on her face. At last she laughed. "Oh, you wicked, wicked man," she said, "what a capital mimic you are, and so full of cleverness! Do bring up Captain Hicks—isn't that his name?—and trot him out for us. Bring him up, and introduce him to mamma: do now, go!"