so far as to
affect the brain, without the least outward symptom.

Natura could not forbear laughing within himself, to hear this great
man so much mistaken; but when they told him he must take his physic,
and go to bed, or at least be confined to his chamber, he absolutely
refused both, and said he was as well as ever he was in his life.--All
he said, however, availed nothing, and his father was about to make
use of his authority to force him to obedience to the doctor's
prescription, when finding no other way to avoid it, he fell on his
knees, and with tears in his eyes, confessed he had only counterfeited
sickness, to delay being sent to Eton again; begged his father to
forgive him; said he was sorry for having attempted to deceive him,
but was ready to go whenever he pleased.

The father was strangely amazed at the trick had been put upon him;
and after some severe reprimands on the occasion, asked what he had to
complain of at Eton, that had rendered him so unwilling to return.
Natura hesitated at this demand, but could not find in his heart to
forge any unjust accusation concerning his usage at that place, and at
last said, that indeed it was only because he had a mind to stay a
little longer at home with him. On which he told him he was an idle
boy, but he must not expect that wheedle would serve his turn; for
since he was not sick, he must go to school the next day: Natura
renewed his intreaties for pardon, and assured him he now desired
nothing more than to do as he commanded.

This story made a great noise in the family, and the mother-in-law did
not fail to represent it in its worst colours to every one that came
to the house; but Natura having obtained forgiveness from his father,
did not give himself much trouble as to the rest.--Delia seemed
rejoiced to see him come down stairs again, but he looked shy upon
her, and told her he could not have thought she would have been so
unkind as not to have come to see him; but on her acquainting him with
the reason of her absence, and protesting it was not her fault, he
grew as fond of her as ever; and among a great many other tender
expressions, 'I wish,' said he, 'I were a man, and you a
woman.'--'Why?' returned she; 'because,' cried he, 'we would be
married.'--'O fye,' answered the little coquet, 'I should hate you, if
you thought of any such thing; for I will never be married.' Then
turned away with an affected scornfulness, and yet looked kindly
enough upon