“You see, sir,” I said—“oh, don’t, my darling; your father is the kindest man in the world, and he will never have the heart to make you unhappy—you see, sir, how good she is, and how simple, and ready to be satisfied even with me. I am a poor man, and I have my way to make; but with her I could make it to—to—” I was going to say “heaven,” but substituted, “the top of the tree. And we have a pretty place, where she would be happy as the day is long. And if I don’t protect her, and cherish her, and worship her, and keep her as the apple of my eye, I hope you will take me by the neck, Captain Fairthorn, and put me under this air-pump.” “How do you know that is an air-pump?” he asked, with admiration of my cleverness. “By the look, sir,” I replied; “I have seen them before.” “Well, then, it isn’t; neither does it much resemble one. Kitty, you see what his diffidence is; and another proof, I suppose, is, that he has fallen in love with you?” “Yes,” said my darling, with a smile so humble, and loving, and confiding, that my eyes grew moist, and her father could not see through his spectacles; “it is a sure proof of his diffidence; for he deserves to have a better wife than I shall ever be; although I will do my best to please him.” “Well, after that,” replied Captain Fairthorn, “it seems to me, that my opinion matters very little. You appear to have made up your minds; and your minds appear to have been made for one another. I am wholly unable to withstand such facts. Of course I shall make my inquiries, Master Kit. But so far as I can see at present, I will not deny you what you have won. If she is half as good to her husband as she always has been to her father, you will be a happy man, God willing. There kiss me, my pretty dear, and don’t cry any more, till he makes you.” CHAPTER XVIII. FALSE MOTHER. SUCH is the balance of human events—if the phrase be held admissible—that the moment any member of our race is likely to strike the stars with his head sublime, he receives a hard thump upon that protuberance, and comes down with a crown—but a cracked one. As for myself—an unpretentious fellow, and of very simple intellect, though not quite such a fool as the world considered me in my later troubles,—desiring always to tell the truth, I will not deny that I walked on air, when I found myself gifted with my Kitty’s love, and her large-hearted father’s assent to it. It had been arranged that I must wait, and keep my bliss inside my waistcoat, until such time as slower prudence and clearer foresight might prescribe. But all I thought of were the glorious facts that Kitty loved me as I loved her, and that her father, who alone could enter sound denial, would not deny. “What do I care for that old stepmother?” I said to myself, as I buttoned my coat.