and when our young gentleman, after pretending to hesitate on the score of the solitary condition of his uncle, whom the rogue know to be at that hour, namely, candle-light, on the eve of getting into bed, allows himself to be entreated, and declares taking tea in that house reminds him of the happy days of his boyhood. Mrs. Jones, I am bound to say, being of a sanguine turn of mind, began to speculate in earnest upon the probability of a certain desirable event.
It has just been disclosed that the elder Van Trump—not the brigadier-general, but the patroon—retired with the sun, or a little later, partly because his constitution and senile infirmities required, and partly because, having few associates among his immediate neighbors, the best way of disposing of the tedium of the evenings was to cut it short altogether. During the occasional visits of his grand-nephew and heir, it is true, the last-named motive could not be said to exist, but it was scarce worth his while, the old man thought, to break in upon a habit of years' growth for a satisfaction of ten days' standing; so Mr. Clarence, had he staid at home on the night in question, would have had a dull time of it in the library, yawning or dozing over a few dusty gazetteers or odd volumes of magazines, containing such tales as delighted our grandmothers a half century back. To own the truth, however, it was not the habit of our young gentleman to spend many hours of the evening within the recesses of the dismal pile known among the villagers as the 'Squirery, on the occasions of his visits; and occasionally he was absent—looking at the moon, perhaps—at least, that was what he told the ancient housekeeper—most of the night. But at breakfast-table, next morning, Mr. Clarence was sure to present himself, whence-ever he might last come, and make himself agreeable to the great proprietor sitting opposite, sipping his weak tea, and wagging his revered head at the sallies and gossip of his youthful kinsman. The morning after the evening spent in Miss Mary Jones's society, the Joneses were, of course, the text.
"You ought to have seen Mother Jones, Sir!" Mr. Clarence said. That was the scarcely respectful way in which he chose to designate. that worthy lady. "Such attention as she paid me! By Jove! if I had eaten half the sweet-meats, only, she put upon my plate at supper, you would have had to send for Snack's successor before morn-
