Well, the day was drawing near: the clothes were ordered; the banns were read. My dear mamma had built a cake about the size of a washing-tub: and I was only waiting for a week to pass to put me in possession of twelve thousand pounds in the _five_ per cents., as they were in those days, Heaven bless em! Little did I know the storm that was brewing, and the disappointment which was to fall upon a young man who really did his best to get a fortune. "O Robert!" said my Magdalen to me, two days before the match was to come off, "I have _such_ a kind letter from uncle Sam, in London. I wrote to him as you wished. He says that he is coming down to-morrow; that he has heard of you often, and knows your character very well, and that he has got a _very handsome present_ for us! What can it be, I wonder?" "Is he rich, my soul's adored?" says I. "He is a bachelor with a fine trade, and nobody to leave his money to." "His present can't be less than a thousand pounds," says I. "Or, perhaps, a silver tea-set, and some corner dishes," says she. But we could not agree to this: it was too little—too mean for a man of her uncle's wealth; and we both determined it must be the thousand pounds. "Dear, good uncle! he's to be here by the coach," says Magdalen. "Let us ask a little party to meet him." And so we did, and so they came. My father and mother, old Crutty in his best wig, and the parson who was to marry us next day. The coach was to come in at six. And there was the tea-table, and there was the punch-bowl, and everybody ready and smiling to receive our dear uncle from London. Six o'clock came, and the coach, and the man from the Green Dragon with a portmanteau, and a fat old gentleman walking behind, of whom I just caught a glimpse—a venerable old gentleman—I thought I'd seen him before.... Then there was a ring at the bell; then a scuffling and bumping at the passage: then old Crutty rushed out, and a great laughing and talking, and "_How are you?_" and so on, was heard at the door; and then the parlour-door was flung open, and Crutty cried out with a loud voice— "Good people all! my brother-in-law, Mr. STIFFELKIND!" _Mr. Stiffelkind!_—I trembled as I heard the name! Miss Crutty kissed him; mamma made him a curtsey, and papa made him a bow; and Dr. Snorter, the parson, seized his hand and shook it most warmly—then came my turn! "Vat," says he, "it is my dear goot yong friend from Doctor Schvis'hentail's! is dis the yong gentleman's honourable moder" (mamma smiled and made a curtsey), "and dis his fader! Sare and madam, you should be broud of soch a sonn. And you, my niece, if you have him for a husband you vil be locky, dat is all. Vat dink you, broder Crotty, and Madame Stobbs, I ave made your sonn's boots, ha! ha!" My mamma laughed, and said, "I did not know it, but I am sure, sir, he has as pretty a leg for a boot as any in the whole county."