alley to me than thousands o' gold an' silver--God bless her."

The cheque was taken up and presented by Gaff on the following morning,
but to the honest man's dismay, Lizzie declined it positively, though
she accompanied her refusal with many earnest expressions of gratitude,
and kissed the seaman's hard hand at parting.

Gaff returned to the "Boodwar," lit his German pipe with the cheque, and
said, "I _knowed_ she wouldn't tak' it--dear girl."

Kenneth was standing in the bower at the foot of my garden, looking
pensively on the distant landscape, which was bathed in the rich glow of
the setting sun. His right arm embraced the slender waist of Lizzie--
his left encircled the shoulder of Emmie Graham.

"We must have patience, darling," said Kenneth, with an effort at
cheerfulness.

"Our hopes were as bright as that lovely sky some days ago," said
Lizzie.

While she was speaking the sun descended behind a bank of heavy clouds.

"And thus have our hopes gone down," murmured Kenneth sadly.

"But, uncle," observed Emmie, "the sun is still shining behind the
clouds."

"Thank you, Emmie, for the comforting word," said Lizzie, "and our sun
is indeed shining still."

The trio left off contemplating the sky, and returned in improved
spirits to Bingley Hall, where my strong-minded wife had just delivered
herself of the following oration:--

"It's of no use talking to me," (she was right; I never found it to be
of the least use to talk to her.) "Old Stuart is a monster--nobody will
convince me to the contrary. I only wish I had the making of the laws,
and I would have powerful cures got up for such as he. And his
brother-in-law is no better--Crusty indeed, bad though it is, the name
is too good for him. Don't interrupt me. He is _not_ like many of his
neighbours, for he has had no provocation. The captain of dragoons has
turned out a very good husband, and poor Bella is as happy with him as
such a flirt could expect to be."

I ventured to remark at this point that my wife was wandering from the
subject from which she started, but she became extremely angry, and
finally put me down and snuffed me out by assuring me that I had been
born at least a generation before my time.

Dan Horsey sat on the dresser of my kitchen, switching his boot with a
riding-whip, and looking at Susan with an extremely melancholy
expression of countenance. Susan was cleaning a silver tea-pot--her
usual occupation when Dan was present