Clermistonlee had increased his great personal advantages by all the aid of dress, and in defiance of the sad coloured fashions of the time, wore a voluminous Monmouth whig, the long curls of which were puffed with aromatic powder, a suit of rose-coloured velvet, laced so thick with gold that the ground of the cloth was scarcely visible, a sword and belt sparkling with jewels. A medal of gold, bearing his coat of arms, was suspended by a chain of the same metal round his neck; it was his last venture in quest of fortune, and his lordship had resolved to spend all he possessed upon the stake. By the artful Annie he was led forward to the trembling and sinking Lilian, to whom he pleaded his cause, his constancy, and perseverance, his raptures and agonies, his hopes and despair, with an ardour that confused, and perhaps flattered, if it did nothing more. These his lordship brought out all at a breath, as he had got the whole by rote, having said the same things to a hundred different women before; but now his natural ardour and spirit of gallantry were greatly increased by the touching character which sorrow, vexation, and disappointment had imparted to the soft beauty of Lilian--and also by the aspect of the comfortable old manor house and the acres of fine arable land that lay around it; while she (shall we confess it?), as bitter thoughts of Walter and his French wife rose up within her, stole glances from time to time at her noble and courtly suitor--glances which he soon perceived, and fired with new animation, threw such an air of devotion into his addresses that he--triumphed. Annie placed the hand of Lilian within that of Clermistonlee; he pressed her to his heart, and she did not withdraw it; but burst into a passion of tears. He then threw his splendid chain, with its medal, around her bending neck, and pressed her to his breast, and so sudden was the revulsion of feeling that Lilian fainted. An hour afterwards Clermistonlee, with all his embroidery glittering in the sun, was seen galloping back to the city like a madman; he dashed through the Portsburgh, and reined up near the Bowfoot, where, at the summit of a ten-storied edifice, dwelt Mr. Ichabod Bummel, minister of the Gospel. "The father of confusion take your long stair! Why, Mr. Bummel, 'tis like a rascally old steeple," said the lord, breaking breathlessly in upon the lank-haired and long-visaged pastor, who was intent upon "The Hind let loose" of Alexander Sheills. "Yea, a tower of Babel--but what hath procured me the honour of your lordship's visit?" "By all the devils, don't think I am come to drub thee for that lecture on the cutty stool--ha, ha! I am about to be married, man--and want you to proclaim the banns and so forth--but my Lord Mersington will see after them for me." "As my _Bombshell_ saith, marriage is an honourable and godly estate----"