“Dear Adeline,—Far from having my indignation awakened by your account of Amy’s attachment to young Greenleaf, I was heartily glad to hear that she had fixed it on so worthy an object. I have the most satisfactory assurances as to his worth, his unexceptionable habits, and his ability to make my daughter happy. What more shall we look for? You say he is a milk-man’s son, and ask if I am willing to see my child wedded to a clodhopper. Let me tell you, it is no small distinction in these days, when whole states have set the example of repudiating their debts (or, in plain, downright English, of _swindling their creditors_,) to be descended from an honest man, let his vocation have been what it might. At any rate, I am delighted at Amy’s choice, and I most earnestly forbid your throwing any obstacle in the way of its fulfillment. I remain your affectionate brother, etc., etc.” As Aunt Adeline lifted her eyes from the letter, she beheld Amy seated in the colonel’s lap, and playfully feeding him with a spoon, while at intervals she smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead. The girl was evidently wildly enamored of a character who had shown himself a most eligible candidate for Sing Sing; and Aunt Adeline had the soothing reflection, that she herself had originated and encouraged the attachment. Requesting Amy to follow her to the library, she at once made known to her the fact of the colonel’s unworthiness, and related the occurrence of the night before. Amy professed her utter disbelief of the charges against her “own Arthur,” as she called him, and on her aunt’s offering to prove them, by calling in a magistrate, and having the colonel’s trunk searched, the infatuated girl exclaimed: “Well, what if he is guilty? His father is an earl, and his aunt is the daughter-in-law of a duke, and happen what may I won’t give up my own Arthur.” Aunt Adeline groaned in spirit as she replied—“Have you so soon forgotten that nice, respectable, amiable young man, Greenleaf, to whom you gave so much encouragement? I never believed you could be so fickle, Amy!” “Greenleaf! Foh! Turnip-tops and cabbage-heads! Radishes and carrots! How can you condescend to mention his vulgar, vegetable name after what yourself have said about him to me, my dear aunt? Besides, how do you know that the milk-man’s son has not changed his mind by this time, seeing your hostility to his pretensions?”