"Pain, father," said Diphoos, grinning, for he had noticed the look of relief that appeared upon the ladies' faces when the hope came that the dreadful old gentleman had forgotten the story. There would not have been much Tom left if their looks had been lightning, for his words set the old gentleman off again. "Yes, to be sure: I said to him, `My dear fellow'--just after one of these rumbling noises made by the train in the tunnel--`my dear boy, you must call in the doctor, or lay down some more good port wine.'--`Why?' he said.--`Because,' I replied, `your house always sounds to me as if it had got a pain in its cellar!' Eh! He--he! devilish good that, wasn't it?" No one enjoyed that feeble joke as well as the narrator who used to recollect it about once a year, and try to fire it off; but unless his son was there to prompt him, it rarely made more than a flash in the pan. It was observable that the conversation became very loud just then, and Charley Melton seized the opportunity to whisper a few words to Lady Maude--words which deepened the colour on her cheeks. They were interrupted by the clapping of hands, for just then the host rose, and Tom stole gently behind him, taking the seat he had vacated, and preparing himself for the break down he anticipated. "Ladies and gentlemen," said his lordship, gazing meekly round like a very old Welsh mutton, "I--I--I, believe me, never rose upon such an occasion as this, and--er--and--er." He gazed piteously at her ladyship at the other end of the table, and at whose instigation, a message having been sent by Robbins the butler, he had risen. "I say I have never before risen upon such an occasion as this, but I hope that my darling child who is about to--to--to--to--eh, what did you say, Tom my boy." "Hang it, go on, governor. Quit your roof--paternal roof," whispered Tom. "Quit your paternal roof, will shine--yes, shine in her new sphere as an ornament to society, as her mother has been before her. A woman all love, all gentleness, and sweetness of disposition." "Oh, hang it governor; draw it mild," whispered Tom. "Yes, mild," said his lordship, "mild to a fault. Eh? bless me, what is the matter?" It was a favourable opportunity for a display of emotion, and her ladyship displayed it beautifully for the assembled company to study and take a lesson in maternal and wifely tenderness. Her beloved child was being handed over to the tender mercies of a man--was about to leave her home--about to be torn away. Her ladyship burst into an agony of tears--of wild sobbing--for she was a model of all the virtues; but when virtues were made, nature selected another pattern and this one was cast aside. A sympathetic coo ran round the table, tears were shed, and Tom winked at Charley Melton, who kept his countenance.