mbassador to the court of Gurt-na-Morra with
sincere pleasure."

"Will you really? Will you, indeed, Charley, do this for me? Will you
strengthen my wishes by your aid, and give me all your influence with the
family?"

I could scarcely help smiling at poor Sparks's eagerness, or the
unwarrantable value he put upon my alliance, in a case where his own
unassisted efforts did not threaten much failure.

"I repeat it, Sparks, I'll make a proposal for you in all form, aided and
abetted by everything recommendatory and laudatory I can think of; I'll
talk of you as a Peninsular of no small note and promise; and observe rigid
silence about your Welsh flirtation and your Spanish elopement."

"You'll not blab about the Dalrymples, I hope?"

"Trust me; I only hope you will be always equally discreet: but now--when
shall it be? Should you like to consider the matter more?"

"Oh, no, nothing of the kind; let it be to-morrow, at once, if I am to
fail; even that--anything's better than suspense."

"Well, then, to-morrow be it," said I.

So I wished him a good-night, and a stout heart to hear his fortune withal.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

A MISTAKE.

I ordered my horses at an early hour; and long before Sparks--lover that
he was--had opened his eyes to the light, was already on my way towards
Gurt-na-Morra. Several miles slipped away before I well determined how I
should open my negotiations: whether to papa Blake, in the first instance,
or to madame, to whose peculiar province these secrets of the home
department belonged; or why not at once to Baby?--because, after all, with
her it rested finally to accept or refuse. To address myself to the heads
of the department seemed the more formal course; and as I was acting
entirely as an "envoy extraordinary," I deemed this the fitting mode of
proceeding.

It was exactly eight o'clock as I drove up to the door. Mr. Blake was
standing at the open window of the breakfast-room, sniffing the fresh air
of the morning. The Blake mother was busily engaged with the economy of the
tea-table; a very simple style of morning costume, and a nightcap with a
flounce like a petticoat, marking her unaffected toilet. Above stairs, more
than one head _en papillate_ took a furtive peep between the curtains; and
the butler of the family, in corduroys and a fur cap, was weeding turnips
in the lawn before the door.

Mrs. Blake had barely time to take a hurried departure, when her husband
came out up