re a farthing for parting.

Our friend Jawleyford was quite a man of fashion in this respect. He saw
Sponge's preparations for departure with an unconcerned air, and a--'sorry
you're going,' was all that accompanied an imitation shake, or rather touch
of the hand, on leaving. There was no 'I hope we shall see you again soon,'
or 'Pray look in if you are passing our way,' or 'Now that you've found
your way here we hope you'll not be long in being back,' or any of those
blarneyments that fools take for earnest and wise men for nothing.
Jawleyford had been bit once, and he was not going to give Mr. Sponge a
second chance. Amelia too, we are sorry to say, did not seem particularly
distressed, though she gave him just as much of a sweet look as he squeezed
her hand, as said, 'Now, if you _should_ be a man of money, and my Lord
Scamperdale does not make me my lady, you may,' &c.

There is an old saying, that it is well to be 'off with the old love before
one is on with the new,' and Amelia thought it was well to be on with the
new love before she was off with the old. Sponge, therefore, was to be in
abeyance.

We mentioned the delight infused into Jawleyford Court by the receipt of
Lord Scamperdale's letter, volunteering a visit, nor was his lordship less
gratified at hearing in reply that Mr. Sponge was on the eve of departure,
leaving the coast clear for his reception. His lordship was not only
delighted at getting rid of his horror, but at proving the superiority of
his judgement over that of Jack, who had always stoutly maintained that the
only way to get rid of Mr. Sponge was by buying his horses.

'Well, that's _good_,' said his lordship, as he read the letter; 'that's
_good_,' repeated he, with a hearty slap of his thigh. 'Jaw's not such a
bad chap after all; worse chaps in the world than Jaw.' And his lordship
worked away at the point till he very nearly got him up to be a good chap.

They say it never rains but it pours, and letters seldom come singly; at
least, if they do they are quickly followed by others.

As Jack and his lordship were discussing their gin, after a repast of
cow-heel and batter-pudding, Baggs entered with the old brown
weather-bleached letter-bag, containing a county paper, the second-hand
copy of _Bell's Life_, that his lordship and Frostyface took in between
them, and a very natty 'thick cream-laid' paper note.

'That must be from a woman,' observed Jack, squinting ardently at the
writing