"To cut a delicious tale too short, Louisa Box--who has £20,000 on the nail, which is not to be sneezed at, with tin going down--and Thomas Erricker, of Middle Temple, are to be joined in holy matrimony, at 11 A. M. next Saturday, and the devil take the hindmost. I have been up to London for new togs, but could not get an hour to run down to you, and I know what a rumpus you are always in. This you will excuse of course. But I rely upon you, mind (and if you fail me it will not come off), to put yourself into your best array, and be best man on Saturday. You must come by the train which reaches Sheffield, 7.45 P. M. on Friday. I will meet you at the station, and we will have a blow-out at the Governor's, and I will put you up to everything. And it would be kind if you would call at old Puckerpant's before you start, and bring my vestments with you. I have paid his bill; so that you can swear at him. "Now, my dear fellow, this is a solemn matter. I feel the vitality of holy matrimony; and I trust my old pal to back me up. Last night I had a spasm in the plaster on my chest. I am not so strong as I was at College, and I shall never pull through it without you. You are a sneak, if you desert the Tom who has done so much for you." Any one of lofty altruistic soul, or even decent fidelity, would vote me a very paltry fellow, for doubting what to do in a case like this. It seemed an atrocious thing of Tom, and a pestilent piece of luck for me, to take me two hundred miles from home, at this very crisis of my life,--just when I meant to compel my father to call upon Sûr Imar; or if that could not be done, to bring sweet Dariel to see my mother, whose kind heart she would captivate. Then I would show her to Grace, and perhaps at some leisure to Jackson Stoneman; and look what becomes of their pride and their Saxon infatuation, after that! Was this and every other delightful plan to be put off, nobody knew how long, for the sake of a headlong cash and love-affair concocted by Tom Erricker? I was sure that my sister would agree with me, for she always had made light of Tom, and I vowed to my reluctant self, that the decision should be left to her. What then was my chagrin and wonder, when she said, "You are bound to go, George!" And I fear that she wanted me out of the way, because I would not kow-tow to her "Jack!"