Theresa didn’t change colour, but I flushed beautifully, I can promise you. “Curling begins afresh at the bank to-morrow,” said uncle Tom to me. “I am glad to hear it,” I answered, grateful to him for diverting the general attention. “And they dine with us to-morrow,” he added, addressing his wife. “Very proper,” broke in his brother; “and were it not for my rooted dislike to leave my house at the mercy of my servants, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to drink to their future happiness in a bumper of the best champagne you’ve got in your cellar. However, I’ll tell you what I mean to do, Tom, and I say it in the presence of witnesses, since it is a verbal agreement; when they have chosen a house I’ll furnish it for them.” “No, no,” cried Tom. “Yes, papa, you shall,” said Theresa. My aunt hung her head. “May I never set foot in this room again Tom, if I don’t,” exclaimed uncle Dick with great energy. “Aren’t I Conny’s uncle? and what’s the use of uncles if they don’t make presents? I like that young Curling, and mean to stick to him. Let him go and order what furniture he wants and send the bill in to me. Pooh! pooh! don’t interrupt, Tom. Curling has nothing against him that I can see, but his poverty; and if I choose to help him to furnish a house for his wife, you’ll not have so much reason to deplore the marriage in a pecuniary sense.” “But it is my place to furnish their house,” said Tom. His brother said it wasn’t, and Theresa said it wasn’t. My aunt proved that it was nobody’s place but Curling’s. “And Curling shall do it--through me,” said Dick. A hot argument followed, which ended in my aunt bursting into tears, and in my uncle Tom wringing his brother’s hand. All this was sufficiently pleasant, and even my aunt grew more cheerful as the evening wore away. I heartily applauded uncle Dick’s untiring efforts to render the poor mother satisfied with her child’s choice. Suppose he was not so much in earnest as he seemed? so much the more praise is due to him. It is very easy to sneer, very easy to render people dissatisfied and wretched. (You can tell that by the number of stupid persons whom that sort of work gives employment to.) And detestable as Rochefoucauld’s philosophy always is, there is but too much truth in his assertion, that there is something in the misfortunes of our friends that seldom fails to please us. I honoured uncle Dick for the cheerful light his large kind heart streamed upon this family trouble. He talked so well, reasoned so clearly and honestly, that it was difficult to hear him and not consider that Conny had shown profound sagacity in selecting Curling for a husband; and that this alliance, so far from being a disgrace, was an affair which all Conny’s relations had every right to regard with emotions of ungovernable pride. CHAPTER VI. “Wounds, Dolly! this marrying be dear work!” _Doves in a Cage._