it come
off?"

"Ey? what? a wedding? whose?"

"Oh, ho! you don't know, ey? I guessed as much: what do you think now of
our laughing, and crying, and kissing, and praying Miss Maria with--

"Not that beggar Clements? Ey? what? d----" &c., &c.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha! I thought so; why not, governor? Are you an old mole,
that you haven't seen it these six weeks? Are you stone deaf, that all
their pretty speeches have been wasted on you? All I can say is, that if
Mr. and Mrs. Clements an't spliced, it's pretty well time they should
be, and--

"Sir Thomas Dillaway rattled out so terrible an oath about Maria's
disinheritance if she ventured upon a marriage, that even John was
staggered at such a dreadful curse; nevertheless, an instantaneous
reflection soon caused that curse to be viewed metaphorically as a
'bone;' and the generous brother cautiously proceeded--

"Why, governor, all this is very odd, must say; when I caught 'em
kissing up there ten minutes ago, they were sharp enough to swear that
you knew all about it, and that you were so 'very, very kind.'"

How is it possible, intelligent reader, to avoid perpetual allusion to
an oath? We must not pare the lion's claws, and give bad men soft
speeches: pr'ythee, supply an occasional interjection, and believe that
in this place Sir Thomas swore most awfully; then, in a complete
phrensy, he vowed that he "would turn Maria out of house and home this
minute." This was another "bone," clearly.

But it was now becoming politic to calm him. Shrewd Jack was well aware
that Maria would relinquish all, and sacrifice, not merely her own
heart, but her Henry's too, rather than be guilty of filial
disobedience. All this storming, hopeful as it looked, might still be
premature, and do no substantial good; nay, if this wrath broke out too
soon, Maria would at once give way, become more dutiful than ever, and
his golden chance was gone. No: they were not married yet. Let the
wedding somehow first take place, and then--! and then!--for now he knew
which way the wind blew; so the scheming youth calmed his rising
triumphs, and counselled his progenitor as follows:

"Well, governor, I never saw so green a blade in all my born days. Can't
you see, now, that it's all cram this, just to put you in spirits, old
boy, in case of such things happening? It was wicked too of me to tease
you so--but I'm so jolly, governor; such luck in Jermyn street--I knew
you'd like a joke served up with such r