And when Mrs. Sandboys had feasted her eyes on the banquet of the works of Industry of all nations, she in her turn came back with a glowing account of its many marvels, so that poor Cursty began inwardly to long for a peep at it himself, but remembering the vow he had registered on the ceiling, he still pretended to be firm, though in his heart he was really waiting for his friends to press him to abandon his resolution, and to find some little excuse by which he could, with any show of honour, sneak out of the determination he had come to; and in the hope of their so doing, he managed to put off their departure, day after day, until at last, on the Monday morning fixed for their return to Buttermere, as Cursty sat at breakfast, sipping his hot tea hastily, so as to be in time for the train to the North, he confessed it would be a shame for him to go back without seeing the Exhibition. Accordingly, he asked the Major if, as a man of honour, he thought he could rescind his vow, saying that it struck him that, as he had taken an oath he would not stir a foot to get to the Great Exhibition, that did not prevent his being carried there. The Major smiled at the equivocation, and telling his friend that he might do so, and still preserve his honour unsullied, Mr. Sandboys consented that the cab which was then at the door to convey them to the station on their way back to their mountain home, should go round by the Exhibition, and drop him at the transept, so that he might pop his head in, and just be able to say that he had seen it, after all. The Major who, while Cursty was coquetting with his conscience, stood at the window entertaining himself with the perusal of the morning paper, which he had bought to lighten the tedium of the long journey, no sooner heard the announcement of his friend’s altered determination, than he shouted out, “It’s no use now, Cursty! for here is a long account of the closing of the Exhibition last Saturday.” Mr. Sandboys’ jaw fell like a carriage dog’s, and, knocking his “wide-awake” on his head, he hurried into the cab, and in a minute the Sandboys family, in company with the Major, were on their way back to Buttermere, Cursty vowing that if there was ever another Exhibition, he would never think of coming up to London again to enjoy himself. THE END. Savill & Edwards, Printers, 4, Chandos-street, Covent garden. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ● Transcriber’s Notes: ○ The inconsistent formatting of chapter headings was regularized. ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant form was found in this book. ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text that was bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).