quite respect her dear husband's melancholy face and heavy sighs."
"But, mamma, don't you remember just after Mary had accepted him, and he came to ask for your consent, you said that he looked so gloomy, and sighed so deeply, that it was more like consenting to a funeral than a wedding?"
"Did I?" said Mrs. Hopkinson, trying not to laugh. "Well, he never was much in the cheerful line; but don't talk of it, for here he is. Well, Willis, Charlie is a little better to-day; and only think, Pleasance is let!"
"Of course it is," answered a sepulchral voice.
"Well, it is a sweet place! one can't wonder at anybody taking it; but it has stood empty a long time."
"That I don't care about, that is Randall's loss; but as I liked to smoke my cigar there in peace, and to take my lonely stroll by the river side, and as it suited my child to play in the garden—in short, as it was a sort of con-
