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felt very much embarrassed, for, while he could not but think that he had not been exactly treated well, he was anxious to conceal the fact of his being annoyed, "you know best, certainly—you ought to know best. But I presume, from what you have said, that you intend to accept his offer?"

"Why, really, that is a question which I cannot answer now. I shall, however, be in a position to do so immediately after the offer has been made."

"After it has been made! Has it not already been made?"

"Not yet: no: it has not been made yet."

"Oh! I beg pardon! I thought that it had been."

"Why, what do you mean? There is nothing in your countenance facetious; and yet you are jesting, of course?"

"Jesting! Bless my life, no; I'm not jesting at all."

"Do you really mean to say that you are serious?"

"Perfectly so."

"Then what do you mean?"

"You have had—or rather you expect to have, an offer of marriage: do you not?"

"No!"

"But a gentleman has proposed, or is about to propose to you?"

"Not that I am aware of."

"Tut!—bless my life: a stout gentleman!—one whom you think somewhat too stout?"

"I know nothing of it."

"Well, but—really, my dear madam—is that a fact?"

"I know nothing whatever, my dear sir, about it."

"Bless my heart alive! Well, but did you not direct a letter to be sent to me, stating that such was the case?"

"Most certainly not."

"The young dog—the young rascal. I'll give him a lecture. I shouldn't have supposed it. I shouldn't have thought he would have done such a thing. The young scamp."

"To whom do you allude?"

"To Sylvester."

"Sylvester! Well, but, my dear sir, you don't mean to say that our Sylvester sent such a letter as that?"

"Here it is!" replied the reverend gentleman, searching all his pockets with astonishing rapidity. "Here it is!—No, it isn't: it's in my other coat. But Sylvester sent me a letter—which letter you shall see to-morrow morning—to this effect: that you had desired him to inform me, that you thought of entering into the marriage state: that you hadn't exactly made up your mind: that you would not do so until you had consulted me: that you fancied that the gentleman, who had made you an offer, was somewhat too stout—"

"Too stout!" cried Aunt Eleanor, laughing.

"Yes: somewhat too stout: that you would not decide until you had had my opinion upon the point; and that, if that opinion were favourable, you wished me to perform the marriage ceremony."