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Aubrey's shoes, I should be most uneasy.'
    Mrs Williams brightened. 'Poor young man,' she said placidly. 'I quite feel for him, I protest.'
    The butler carried away the tea-tray, mended- the fire and began to light the candles. 'How the evenings are drawing in,' said Mrs Williams. 'Never mind the sconces by the door. Pull the curtains by the cord, John. Touching the cloth wears it so, and it is bad for the rings. And now, Admiral, what have you to tell us of the other gentleman at Melbury Lodge, Captain Aubrey's particular friend?'
    'Oh, him,' said Admiral Haddock. 'I do not know much about him. He was Captain Aubrey's surgeon in this sloop. And I believe I heard he was someone's natural son. His name is Maturin.'
    'If you please, sir,' said Frances, 'what is a natural son?'
    'Why... 'said the admiral, looking from side to side.
    'Are sons more natural than daughters, pray?'
    'Hush, my dear,' said Mrs Williams.
    'Mr Lever called at Melbury,' said Cecilia. 'Captain Aubrey had gone to London - he is always going to London, it appears - but he saw Dr Maturin, and says that he is quite strange, quite like a foreign gentleman.
    He was cutting up a horse in the winter drawing-room.'
    'How very undesirable,' said Mrs Williams. 'They will have to use cold water for the blood. Cold water is the only thing for the marks of blood. Do not you think, Admiral, that they should be told they must use cold water for the marks of blood?'
    'I dare say they are tolerably used to getting rid of stains of that kind, ma'am,' said the admiral. 'But now I come to think of it,' he went on, gazing round the room 'what a capital thing it is for you girls, to have a couple of sailors with their pockets full of guineas, turned ashore and pitched down on your very doorstep. Anyone in want of a husband has but to whistle, and they will come running, ha, ha, ha!'
    The admiral's sally had a wretched reception; not one of the young ladies joined in his mirth. Sophia and Diana looked grave, Cecilia tossed her head, Frances scowled, and Mrs Williams pursed up her mouth, looked down her nose and meditated a sharp retort.
    'However,' he continued, wondering at the sudden chill in the room 'it is no go, no go at all, now that I recollect. He told Trimble, who suggested a match with his sister-in-law, that he had quite given up women. It seems that he was so unfortunate in his last attachment, that he has quite given up women. And indeed he is an unlucky wight, whatever they may call him: there is not only this wretched business of his promotion and his father's cursed untimely marriage, but he also has a couple of neutral prizes in the Admiralty court, on appeal. I dare say that is why he is perpetually fagging up and down to London. He is an unlucky man, no doubt; and no doubt he has come to understand it. So he has very rightly given up all thoughts of marriage, in which luck is everything - has quite given up women.'
    'It is perfectly true,' cried Cecilia. 'There is not a single woman in the house! Mrs Burdett, who just happened to be passing by, and our Molly, whose father's cottage is directly behind and can see everything, say there is not a woman in the house! There they live together, with a parcel of sailors to look after them. La, how strange! And yet Mrs Burdett, who had a good look, you may be sure, says the window-panes were shining like diamonds, and all the frames and doors had been new-painted white.'
    'How can they hope to manage?' asked Mrs Williams. 'Surely, it is very wrong-headed and unnatural. Dear me, I should not fancy sitting down in that house. I should wipe my chair with my handkerchief, I can tell you.'
    'Why, ma'am,' cried the admiral, 'we manage tolerably well at sea, you know.'
    'Oh, at sea... 'said Mrs Williams with a smile.
    'What can they do for mending, poor things?' asked Sophia. 'I suppose they buy new.'
    'I can just see them with their stockings out at heel,' cried Frances, with a coarse whoop, 'pegging away with their needles -