“To make two young hearts beat in happy unison,” interrupted Gomer, sharply. “Yes, I do. Why not? Why should I not, eh? Permit me to ask why I should not? I can’t help my looks. A diamond, you know, has an ugly crust; but because I am a dwarf, and look as if I performed ablutions in turmeric, it does not necessarily follow that I should have a lump of granite for a heart.” “But, Gomer, you are--a--rich--and a--a--man of the world--a--” responded Wilton. “I am both,” answered Gomer, emphatically. “I am a man of the world, and I see that, like boys after butterflies, the majority of my kind pursue objects as gaudy and as useless when caught. I see the hollowness of most human purposes, the eagerness with which they are pursued, and the wretched, vexed vanities they prove to be when possessed. I am rich, Wilton; but I apprehend the true purpose of riches to be something different to self-deifying aggrandisement. The world is full of woe--the mission of wealth is to alleviate it: also, to assist and to elevate human worth, and to plant happiness where it has not been wont to bloom. Such have been the objects of my life-labours; and such, I trust, they will continue to be. I do not, however, pretend to attempt to control your actions, or guide you in the performance of your duties. That must be your own task. I simply reiterate what my award to Mr. Vivian would have been; and now I expect you will take upon yourself the office of acknowledging the debt of gratitude you owe to him--rather a heavy obligation to my thinking--and the consideration of the meet reward you will bestow upon him.” Wilton, after a little reflection, said--