“Well, though an unmarried man _as yet_, I am keenly alive to the advantages of the married state. I never told you, I think, Mrs. Delaval, of an adventure that befell me at Cheltenham--never mind now--but, believe me, I am no stranger to those tender feelings, Mrs. Delaval, to which we men of the sword--ah, ah--are _infernally_ addicted. What? Well, ma’am, there’s my niece now, they all want to marry her. Every scoundrel within fifty miles wants to lead Blanche to the altar. Zounds, I’ll weather ’em, the villains--excuse me, Mrs. Delaval, but to proceed--I am extremely anxious to confide my intentions to you, as I hope I may calculate on your assistance. My nephew, Charlie, to be explicit, is the----Holloa! you woman, come back--come back, I say; you’re carrying off the wrong coop. The dolt has mistaken my orders about the Cochin Chinas. In the afternoon, if you please, Mrs. Delaval, we’ll discuss the point more at leisure.” And the General bolted through the study window, and was presently heard in violent altercation with the lady who presided over his poultry yard. Though not very explicit, Mary had gathered enough from the General’s confidences to conclude he was anxious to arrange a marriage eventually between the two cousins. Well! what was that to her? He certainly was a very taking boy, handsome, gentle, and high-spirited; nothing could be nicer for Blanche. And she was so fond of him; what a charming couple they would make. “I am so glad,” thought Mary, wondering when she might congratulate the bride-elect; “so _very_ glad; dear, how glad I am.” Why should Mary have taken such pains to assure herself how glad she was? Why did she watch the _charming couple_ with an interest she had never felt before, as she joined them on their return from their morning walk? A walk, the object of which (tell it not in Bubbleton) had been to pursue the sport of rat-hunting in a certain barn, with a favourite terrier of Charlie’s, a sport that Blanche was persuaded to patronise, notwithstanding her horror both of the game and the mode of its destruction, by her affection for Charlie, and her childish habit of joining him in all his pastimes and amusements. How alike they were, with their delicate skin, their deep blue eyes sparkling with exercise and excitement, and their waving brown hair clustering round each flushed and smiling face. How alike they were, and what a nice couple they certainly did make. And Mary sighed, as again she thought how _very_ glad she was!