goodness of heart, and with the same highly laudable object in view, superintended. Of course, Aunt Eleanor's subscription was obtained, and when her name had been added to the list of the faithful, she and Mrs. Delolme took leave of Mr. Terre. That Tom was overlooked by the reverend gentleman in this particular instance may be easily conceived. Mr. Terre took no notice at all of him: nor did Tom take even the slightest notice of Mr. Terre. He had no affection for him, and therefore passed him in an essentially stiff-necked style. He could have said something, but didn't: he handed the ladies into the carriage, and when he had entered himself, they drove off.
"Isn't he a nice man?" said Mrs. Delolme, addressing Aunt Eleanor, as they proceeded.
"Yes, he is, for a sball party," said Tom.
"Thomas!" cried Mrs. Delolme, with an expression of ferocity. "I did not address myself to you. If you were half so kind, half so virtuous, half so amiable, half so pure, as the interesting person whom we have just left, you would be indeed a comfort to a mother's heart; but I fear that you are a reprobate."
"Dot a bit of it," said Tom. "I'b a victib, but do reprobate. A reprobate, bother, is a bad abaddoded to wickeddess. I ab do reprobate. As to the idterestidg creature we have just left, you'll fidd hib out by add bye, I've do doubt, add the sooder you do so the better. Add dow," he added, "I thidk that I bay as well get out, I'b odly idterruptidg the codversatiod here, add I have a call to bake of sobe ibportadce."
As Mrs. Delolme had no other interesting creature to introduce him to, she offered no opposition to his leaving: the carriage was therefore stopped, and Tom alighted, more than ever intent on purchasing that machine which was at once to prove his innocence and enable him to be revenged on the author of all his present troubles.
For some time after Mrs. Delolme, Aunt Eleanor, and Tom had left the house, Sylvester was amused by the anatomical curiosities and lively conversation of the doctor, but having at length been summoned in haste to attend a patient, the doctor, though with manifest reluctance, left Sylvester to amuse himself in the library alone.
This, for a time, Sylvester managed to do; but while reading an elaborate treatise on the Functions of the Brain, he fell asleep, and commenced dreaming on the subject of Aunt Eleanor's marriage—a subject which had never before entered his imagination.
A gentleman, he conceived had proposed to Aunt Eleanor—a gentleman of wealth and station—a fine portly gentleman, who wore at the time—Sylvester saw him distinctly!—a blue coat, with yellow metal buttons, a large white waistcoat, a large bunch of seals, black silk pantaloons, and Hessian boots. Well; Aunt Eleanor had not rejected this proposal; nor had she by any means accepted it; no, she had taken time to consider. She liked his manners very well; they were graceful and elegant; she had been moreover induced to admire his character; he was wealthy, philanthropic, amiable, and kind, and had gained the esteem of all who knew him. There was, however, one circumstance—only one circumstance—which induced her to pause.
