vided!" Abel puffed for a moment in silence. "But I think my dearest
father loves me enough to allow me to mould him a little. If, for
instance, I could say to him that Mr. Dinks would contribute say fifteen
hundred dollars a year, until Mr. Alfred comes into his fortune, I think
in that case I might persuade him to advance as much; and so, Sir, your
son and my dear sister might live somewhat as they have been accustomed,
and their mutual affection would sustain them, I doubt not, until the
grandfather died. Then all would be right."

Abel blew his nose as if to command his emotion, and looked at Mr. Dinks.

"Mr. Newt, I should prefer to drop the subject. I can not afford to give
my son a larger allowance. I doubt if he ever gets a cent from Mr. Burt,
who is not his grandfather, but only the uncle of my wife. Possibly Mrs.
Dinks may receive something. I repeat that I presume my son understands
what he is about. If he has done a foolish thing, I am sorry. I hope he
has not. Let us drink to the prosperity of the romantic young pair, Sir."

"With all my heart," said Abel.

He was satisfied. He had come to the dinner that he might discover,
in the freedom of soul which follows a feast, what Alfred Dinks's
prospects really were, and what his father would do for him. Boniface
Newt, upon coming to the store after the _tete-a-tete_ with his wife,
had told Abel of his sister's marriage. Abel had comforted his parent
by the representation of the probable Burt inheritance. But the father
was skeptical. Therefore, when General Arcularius Belch requested the
pleasure of Mr. Abel Newt's company at dinner, to meet the Honorable
B. Jawley Ele--an invitation which was dictated by General Belch's
desire to stand well with Boniface Newt, who contributed generously
to the expenses of the party--the father and son both perceived the
opportunity of discovering what they wished.

"Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Dinks will have six hundred a year, as long as papa
Dinks chooses to pay it," said Abel to his father the day after the
dinner.

Mr. Newt clenched his teeth and struck his fist upon the table.

"Not a cent shall they have from me!" cried he. "What the devil does a
girl mean, by this kind of thing?"

Abel was not discomposed. He did not clench his teeth or strike his fist.

"I tell you what they can do, father," said he.

His father looked at him inquiringly.

"They can take Mr. and Mrs. Tom Witchet to board."

Mr. Newt remembered eve