"I shall indeed think you so," I answered, "if you ever give me such a formal name again. Call me Richard--Cousin Richard--anything of that kind you like; but never use that cold word Sir any more." "Ay, then you are not such a terrible aristocrat after all," said Bessy, with one of her bright smiles. "As much as ever," I answered; "though I suspect not half so much as you are at heart. But, without a jest, Bessy, it is impossible for me, after all we have gone through together, to be anything to you but Richard Conway, or you to be anything to me but Bessy Davenport. Sometimes in a life, five minutes are equal to five years; and by such measure must we calculate in the length of our acquaintance an hour or two out of this day. Is it a bargain?" "Yes, Richard," she answered, giving me her hand again. "I pledge myself to it." I was just putting the seal upon the compact, with my lips upon that little hand, when the door opened, and in stalked the Rev. Mr. McGrubber. There is a sort of man in every part of the world, who is always in the place where he is not wanted. He is to be pitied rather than blamed, I do believe; for I am convinced it is a sort of idiosyncrasy which is even recognizable in his external appearance, just as particular temperaments can be discovered by the complexion. The moment I set eyes upon McGrubber, I could have sworn he would always be in the way; and so he was. I have said "in he stalked;" but it is impossible to describe by any words his peculiar sort of locomotion. It was more like that of a snake standing on its tail, than anything else. His long lean body seemed to go first, and then to drag the legs after it with an effort that was painful to behold. Whether he saw what I was about when he entered, or not, I did not know; and, to tell the truth, did not much care, although I thought I detected that peculiar sort of twinkle in his small grey eyes, which I have perceived in those of curious people, when they fancy they have made some pleasant little discovery. Bessy coloured a little, and seemed somewhat annoyed; so, to break the awkwardness of the whole business, I turned briskly to Mr. McGrubber, saying, "It has become quite a fine evening again, sir." "I guess it has," replied the worthy minister, sticking his hands into his coat pockets, and spreading the flaps out like a pigeon's tail behind him. "It is warm too. I guess, miss, those bugs that come flying in at the window will knock the candles out, unless somebody does something to stop them." "Very probably, sir," replied Bessy Davenport. "Suppose you try. You are more accustomed, I believe, to keeping peoples' lights burning than I am."