Sir Bazil had very much at heart the accomplishment of the promise he had made to Mr. Trueworth; and, indeed, no one thing could have seemed more strange than that of his being otherwise, when so many reasons concurred to engage his integrity: he had a real friendship for the person who desired his assistance; there were none among all his acquaintance for whom he had a greater regard, or who shared more of his good wishes; the natural affection he had for his sister made him rejoice in the opportunity of seeing her so happily disposed of; and the particular interest of his own passion might well render him not only sincere, but also zealous, in promoting an affair which would so fully answer all these ends. The first breaking the matter to Miss Harriot he looked upon as the greatest difficulty; for he doubted not but when once a belief of Mr. Trueworth's inclinations was properly inculcated in her, his amiable person, and fine qualities, would enable him to make his way, as a lover, into a heart, which had already a high esteem for him as an acquaintance. He resolved, however, not to delay making the discovery; and his sisters coming home soon after, he ran out of his dressing-room, and met them as they were going up stairs into their own chamber, with a whole cargo of silks, and other things they had been buying. 'Hold, hold!' cried he, not suffering them to pass; 'pray, come in here, and let me see what bargains you have been making?'--'What understanding can you, that are a batchelor, have in these things?' said Mrs. Wellair, laughing. 'I have the more need then of being informed,' replied he, 'that I may be the better able to judge both of the fancy and frugality of my wife, whenever I am so happy to get one.' 'Well, well! I know all you men must be humoured,' said Mrs. Wellair, in the same gay strain.--'Come, sister, let us unpack our bundles.' With these words they both went in, and the servant, who followed them with the things, having laid them down on a table, withdrew. The ladies then began to open their parcels; and Sir Bazil gave his opinion first of one thing, and then of another, as they were shewn to him; till Miss Harriot, displaying a roll of very rich white damask, 'To which of you does this belong?' said Sir Bazil. 'To me,' answered she. 'Hah! I am glad on it, upon my soul!' rejoined he: 'this is an omen of marriage, my dear sister. I will lay my life upon it, that you become a bride in this gown!'--'I must first find the man to make me so,' cried she briskly. 'He is not very far to seek, I dare answer,' said Sir Bazil. 'Why, then,' replied she, 'when he is found he must wait till my mind comes to me; and that, I believe, will not be in the wearing of this gown.'