"But, mamma, if you are so distressed at our leaving you, I beseech you to postpone my marriage for a short time, till the remembrance of Julia has subsided. I cannot bear to see you suffer, mamma. Let my marriage be suspended a fortnight--I know Tom will accede for my sake, won't you, dear Tom?" "I would rather live in Dog Pole than postpone my marriage," answered Tom Pynsent, sturdily. "Neither, neither," said Lady Wetheral, rising; "I will not hear of any change. I am foolish in my fondness, but I must have fortitude, like other mothers. I must remember I have Clara and poor little Chrystal to comfort me. Decide upon your place of residence, and so it is not a town or a village, I shall be satisfied." Lady Wetheral quitted the room in a state of mind most pitiable; she had been foiled in her wish to see Anna Maria placed immediately at the head of the Hatton establishment, and, this one wish disappointed, she felt as though every other gratified vision of grandeur sank into nothingness; one defeat obliterated a thousand victories; such is the nature of a mind unaccustomed to meet impediments in its rapid course. "Tom!" said his fair _fiancée_, as the door closed upon them, "I am going to wish a wish." "You wished a pretty wish, just now, you little rascal, didn't you?" answered her lover, throwing his arm round Anna Maria, and squeezing her till she exclaimed:-- "Oh, for Heaven's sake, Tom! your arm is like a steam-engine in full play!" "I'm afraid I am rough," said Tom, anxiously rubbing the arm which had been pinioned to her side by his embrace, "but I am an awkward dog by nature. Come, what is your wish, and you shall have it; but, no more putting off the wedding-day, mind." "I should like, Tom, to go to Paris." "By Jove!" ejaculated Tom Pynsent, in extremity of astonishment, "by all the saints and holy women, what are we to do at Paris, my darling girl?" "Just to see Paris, my dear Tom, and pass a few weeks there." "I think I see myself in Paris, d--n me!" cried her lover, excited something beyond his usual subdued language in Anna Maria's presence: "the Frenchmen will hoot me through the streets; why, we can't manage a sentence in French between us!" "We can hire somebody to speak for us, dear Tom, and every one speaks French now, except ourselves. I want to see Paris, and Blucher, and, what can it signify, whether we speak English or French?" "How shall we eat their infernal frogs and garlic, Anna Maria?" asked Tom Pynsent, with a shudder, "and, what shall we do in a great city, without knowing their jargon? My dear girl, we shall be like the babes in the wood!" "No, no, Tom, we shall get on like other people, and Sir John Spottiswoode delights in Paris; he wishes his mother and sister to join him, Penelope says. We shall find him out; and, then if you dislike Paris, we can return home, you know."