pearance was grave, but
not morose, as if he were always examining things and people without
condemning them. It was evident that he expected to take the upper hand
in general, to play the first fiddle, to hold the top saw, to "be helped
to all the stuffing of the pumpkin," as dear Uncle Sam was fond of
saying. Of moderate stature, almost of middle age, and dressed nicely,
without any gewgaws, which look so common upon a gentleman's front, he
was likely to please more people than he displeased at first on-sight.

The Major was now in the flush of goodwill, having found his dinner
genial; and being a good man, he yielded to a little sympathetic anger
with those who had done less justice to themselves. And in this state
of mind he begged us to take note of one thing--that his ward should
be christened in Bruntsea Church, as sure as all the bells were his,
according to their inscriptions, no later than next Thursday week, that
being the day for a good sirloin; and if Sir Montague failed to come to
see how they could manage things under proper administration, he might
be sure of one thing, if no more--that Major Hockin would never speak to
him again.

CHAPTER XXVIII

A CHECK

So many things now began to open upon me, to do and to think of, that I
scarcely knew which to begin with. I used to be told how much wiser it
was not to interfere with any thing--to let by-gones be by-gones, and
consider my own self only. But this advice never came home to my case,
and it always seemed an unworthy thing even to be listening to it. And
now I saw reason to be glad for thanking people who advised me, and
letting them go on to advise themselves. For if I had listened to Major
Hockin, or even Uncle Sam for that part, where must I have been
now? Why, simply knowing no more than as a child I knew, and feeling
miserable about it. Whereas I had now at least something to go upon,
and enough for a long time to occupy my mind. The difficulty was to know
what to do first, and what to resolve to leave undone, or at least to
put off for the present. One of my special desires had been to discover
that man, that Mr. Goad, who had frightened me so about two years back,
and was said to be lost in the snow-drifts. But nobody like him had ever
been found, to the sorrow of the neighborhood; and Sylvester himself had
been disappointed, not even to know what to do with his clothes.

His card, however, before he went off, had been left to the care