ather, who had been speaking aloud to him, whispered a word
in his ear. "Shake yourself, Tom;--shake yourself, and get over it."

"I am trying," said Tom.

"Love is a very good thing, Tom, when a man can enjoy it, and make
himself warm with it, and protect himself by it from selfishness and
hardness of heart. But when it knocks a man's courage out of him, and
makes him unfit for work, and leaves him to bemoan himself, there's
nothing good in it. It's as bad as drink. Don't you know that I am
doing the best I can for you, to make a man of you?"

"I suppose so."

"Then shake yourself, as I call it. It is to be done, if you set
about it in earnest. Now, God bless you, my boy." Then Sir Thomas
got into his boat, and left his son to go upon his travels and get
himself cured by a change of scene.

I have no doubt that Tom was cured, if not before he reached New
York, at any rate before he left that interesting city;--so that when
he reached Niagara, which he did do in company with Mrs. Thompson and
her charming daughters, he entertained no idea of throwing himself
down the Falls. We cannot follow him on that prolonged tour to Japan
and China, and thence to Calcutta and Bombay. I fancy that he did
not go on to Cabul, as before that time the Ministry in England was
unfortunately changed, and the Russians had not as yet been expelled
from Asia;--but I have little doubt that he obtained a great deal of
very useful mercantile information, and that he will live to have
a comfortable wife and a large family, and become in the course of
years the senior partner in the great house of Travers and Treason.
Let us, who have soft hearts, now throw our old shoes after him.

CHAPTER LXII.

HOW VERY MUCH HE LOVED HER.

We have seen how Mr. Traffick was finally turned out of his
father-in-law's house;--or, rather, not quite finally when we last
saw him, as he continued to sleep at Queen's Gate for two or three
nights after that, until he had found shelter for his head. This he
did without encountering Sir Thomas, Sir Thomas pretending the while
to believe that he was gone; and then in very truth his last pair
of boots was removed. But his wife remained, awaiting the great
occurrence with all the paternal comforts around her, Mr. Traffick
having been quite right in surmising that the father would not expose
his daughter in her delicate condition to the inclemencies of the
weather.

But this no more than natural attention on