g; 'Mat has grown too fine for the shop; nothing
pleased him last time. He wanted napkins with his food because of his
moustache, and he complained that his bed was so hard he could not sleep
on it. It is easy to see that our homely ways do not suit him. I wish
your heart were not set on him so much, Tom; it is thankless work to
cling to a person who wants to get rid of his belongings.'

'Nay, Susan, you are too hard on the lad,' her husband remonstrated;
'Mat will never cut us--he has an affectionate heart. He is only having
his fling, as lads, even the best of them, will at times. By and by he
will settle down, and then we shall see more of him.'

But in spite of Tom's faith, that time never came. By and by Mat wrote
with a greater flourish than ever.

'Wish me joy, my dear Susan and Tom,' he wrote, 'for I am going to be
married, and to the prettiest and the dearest girl in the world. Just
fancy, Tom, her uncle is a Dean! what do you think of your brother Mat
now? "Turn again, turn again, Mat O'Brien"--that is what the bells said
to me, and, by Jove! they were right. Haven't I had a rise this
Christmas?--and now my dear little Olive has promised to take me for
better or worse. Oh, Tom, you should just see her--she is such a
darling! and I am the luckiest fellow in the world to get her! I can see
Susan shaking her head and saying in her wise way that I am young to
take the cares of life on my shoulders; but when a fellow is head over
heels in love, he cannot stop to balance arguments. And after all, we
are not so imprudent, for when the Dean dies, and he is an old man,
Olive will have a pretty penny of her own. So wish me joy, dear Tom, and
send me your blessing.'

Tom fairly wept over this letter; he carried it about with him and read
it at intervals during the day.

'If only she makes the lad happy!' he said to Susan. 'To think of our
Mat marrying a gentlewoman, for of course a Dean's niece is that;' and
Susan, whose knowledge of the world was small, supposed so too.

Tom was hoping that Mat would bring his young wife down to receive his
brotherly congratulations in person; but there was always some excuse
for the delay. Olive was delicate; she could not travel; Mat could not
leave her to come himself, and so on. Tom never doubted these excuses;
he even made his little joke about the lad becoming a family man; but
Susan, who was sharper than her husband, read between the lines. Mat was
ashamed of bringing the D