truth is Trustfulness in them, not doubt, nor
putting down, nor filing them away. And when at last a great sea rises,
and this sea of Time comes sweeping down, bearing the alderman and such
mudworms of the earth away to nothing, dashing them to fragments in its
fury--Toby will climb a rock and hear the bells (now faded from his
sight) pealing out upon the waters. And as he hears them, and looks
round for help, he will wake up and find himself with the newspaper
lying at his foot; and Meg sitting opposite to him at the table, making
up the ribbons for her wedding to-morrow; and the window open, that the
sound of the bells ringing the old year out and the new year in may
enter. They will just have broken out, joyfully; and Richard will dash
in to kiss Meg before Toby, and have the first kiss of the new year
(he'll get it too); and the neighbours will crowd round with good
wishes; and a band will strike up gaily (Toby knows a Drum in private);
and the altered circumstances, and the ringing of the bells, and the
jolly musick, will so transport the old fellow that he will lead off a
country dance forthwith in an entirely new step, consisting of his old
familiar trot. Then quoth the inimitable--Was it a dream of Toby's after
all? Or is Toby but a dream? and Meg a dream? and all a dream! In
reference to which, and the realities of which dreams are born, the
inimitable will be wiser than he can be now, writing for dear life, with
the post just going, and the brave C booted. . . . Ah how I hate myself, my
dear fellow, for this lame and halting outline of the Vision I have in
my mind. But it must go to you. . . . You will say what is best for the
frontispiece". . . .

With the second part or quarter, after a week's interval, came
announcement of the enlargement of his plan, by which he hoped better to
carry out the scheme of the story, and to get, for its following part,
an effect for his heroine that would increase the tragic interest. "I am
still in stout heart with the tale. I think it well-timed and a good
thought; and as you know I wouldn't say so to anybody else, I don't mind
saying freely thus much. It has great possession of me every moment in
the day; and drags me where it will. . . . If you only could have read it
all at once!--But you never would have done that, anyway, for I never
should have been able to keep it to myself; so that's nonsense. I hope
you'll like it. I would give a hundred pounds (and think it cheap) t