rance utterly devoid of
substance, and of every thing like proportion, he appeared much taller
than even nature had made him. His forehead was low, and his whole
character felonious; his eyes were small, deep set, and cunning; his
nose was hooked, his mouth was wide, but his lips thin to a miracle,
and such as always--are to be found under the nose of a miser; as for a
chin, we could not conscientiously allow him any; his under-lip sloped
off until it met the throat with a curve not larger than that of
an oyster-shell, which when open to the tide, his mouth very much
resembled. As for his neck, it was so long that no portion of dress at
that time discovered was capable of covering more than one third of it;
so that there were always two parts out of three left stark naked, and
helplessly exposed to the elements. Whenever he smiled he looked as
if he was about to weep. As the squire said, he was dreadfully
round-shouldered--had dangling arms, that kept napping about him as
if they were moved by some machinery that had gone out of order--was
close-kneed--had the true telescopic leg--and feet that brought a very
large portion of him into the closest possible contact with the earth.

"Are you succeeding, Sir Robert?" inquired the old man sarcastically,
"because, if you are, I swear you're achieving wonders, considering the
slight materials you have to work upon."

"Ah! sir," replied the baronet, "I perceive you are in one of your
biting humors to-day."

"Biting!" exclaimed the other. "Egad, it's very well for most of your
sporting acquaintances that you're free from hydrophobia; if you were
not, I'd have died pleasantly between two feather beds, leaving my child
an orphan long before this. Egad, you bit me to some purpose."

"Oh, ay, you allude to the affair of 'Hop-and-go-constant' and 'Pat the
Spanker;' but you know, my dear sir, I gave you heavy boot;" and as he
spoke, he pulled up the lapels of his coat, and glanced complacently at
the profile of his face and person in the glass.

"Pray, is Miss Folliard at home, sir?"

"Again I'm forgotten," thought the squire. "Ah, what an affectionate
son-in-law he'd make! What a tender husband for Helen! Why, hang the
fellow, he has a heart for nobody, but himself. She is at home, Sir
Robert, but the truth is, I don't think it would become me, as a father
anxious for the happiness of his child, and that child, an only one, to
sacrifice her happiness--the happiness of her whole