I remembered how she spoke of poor Howard; what folly to take it otherwise! "Be it so, then," said I, half aloud; "and now for my part of the game;" and with this I took from my pocket the light-blue scarf she had given me the morning we parted, and throwing it over my shoulder, prepared to perform my part in what I had fully persuaded myself to be a comedy.

The time, however, passed on, and she came not; a thousand high-flown Portuguese phrases had time to be conned over again and again by me, and I had abundant leisure to enact my coming part; but still the curtain did not rise.

As the day was wearing, I resolved at last to write a few lines, expressive of my regret at not meeting her, and promising myself an early opportunity of paying my respects under more fortunate circumstances.

I sat down accordingly, and drawing the paper towards me, began in a mixture of French and Portuguese, as it happened, to indite my billet.
"Senhora Inez--" no--"Ma chere Mademoiselle Inez--" confound it, that's too intimate; well, here goes: "Monsieur O'Malley presente ses respects--" that will never do; and then, after twenty other abortive attempts, I began thoughtlessly sketching heads upon the paper, and scribbling with wonderful facility in fifty different ways: "Ma charmante amie--Ma plus chere Inez," etc., and in this most useful and profitable occupation did I pass another half-hour.
How long I should have persisted in such an employment it is difficult to say, had not an incident intervened which suddenly but most effectually put an end to it.

As the circumstance is one which, however little striking in itself, had the greatest and most lasting influence upon my future career, I shall, perhaps, be excused in devoting another chapter to its recital..