"Now, did you ever?" said Silence, laying down the seam she had been cross-stitching; "what _is_ the matter with her, Mr. Adams?" "Miss Susan is certainly indisposed," replied our hero gravely. "I must get her to take your advice, Miss Silence." Our hero followed Susan to the front door, where she stood looking out at the moon, and begged to know what distressed her. Of course it was "nothing," the young lady's usual complaint when in low spirits; and to show that she was perfectly easy, she began an unsparing attack on a white rosebush near by. "Susan!" said Joseph, laying his hand on hers, and in a tone that made her start. She shook back her curls, and looked up to him with such an innocent, confiding face! Ah, my good reader, you may go on with this part of the story for yourself. We are principled against unveiling the "sacred mysteries," the "thoughts that breathe and words that burn," in such little moonlight interviews as these. You may fancy all that followed; and we can only assure all who are doubtful, that, under judicious management, cases of this kind may be disposed of without wormwood or boneset. Our hero and heroine were called to sublunary realities by the voice of Miss Silence, who came into the passage to see what upon earth they were doing. That lady was satisfied by the representations of so friendly and learned a young man as Joseph that nothing immediately alarming was to be apprehended in the case of Susan; and she retired. From that evening Susan stepped about with a heart many pounds lighter than before. "I'll tell you what, Joseph," said Uncle Jaw, "I'll tell you what, now: I hear 'em tell that you've took and courted that 'ere Susan Jones. Now, I jest want to know if it's true." There was an explicitness about this mode of inquiry that took our hero quite by surprise, so that he could only reply,-- "Why, sir, supposing I had, would there be any objection to it in your mind?" "Don't talk to me," said Uncle Jaw. "I jest want to know if it's true." Our hero put his hands in his pockets, walked to the window, and whistled. "'Cause if you have," said Uncle Jaw, "you may jest un-court as fast as you can; for 'Squire Jones's daughter won't get a single cent of my money, I can tell you that." "Why, father, Susan Jones is not to blame for any thing that her father did; and I'm sure she is a pretty girl enough."