s-boxes----Nothing less than that!

Mr. Peregrine Tyss had got to his six-and-thirtieth year, and herein
had passed almost the best of life. Six years before, he was said to be
a handsome man; now he was with reason called a man of gentlemanly
appearance: but at all times,--then, as well as now,--it was the cry of
all, that he lived too much to himself; that he did not know life, and
was manifestly suffering under a diseased melancholy. Fathers, whose
daughters were just marriageable, thought that to get rid of this
melancholy, the good Tyss could do nothing better than marry; he had a
free choice, and had little reason to fear a negative. The opinion of
the fathers was at least correct in regard to the latter point,
insomuch as Mr. Tyss, besides being, as before said, a man of
gentlemanly appearance, possessed a considerable property, left to him
by his father, Mr. Balthasar Tyss, a very respectable merchant. Maidens
who have got beyond the heyday of love,--that is, who are at least
three or four-and-twenty years old--when such highly gifted men put the
innocent question of "Will you bless me with your hand, dearest?"
seldom do otherwise than answer, with blushing cheeks and downcast
eyes, "Speak to my parents, sir; I shall obey them--I have no will:"--
while the parents fold their hands and say, "If it is the will of
Heaven, we have nothing against it, son."

But Mr. Peregrine Tyss seemed inclined to nothing less than marriage;
for besides that he was in general averse to society, he showed more
particularly a strange idiosyncrasy towards the female race. The mere
proximity of any woman would bring the perspiration on his forehead;
and if actually accosted by a tolerably handsome girl, he would fall
into an agony that fettered his tongue, and caused a cramp-like
trembling through all his limbs. Hence, perhaps, it was that his old
servant was so ugly, that, in the neighbourhood where Mr. Peregrine
Tyss lived, she passed for a wonder in natural history. The black,
rugged, half-grey hair accorded well with the red blear eyes, and just
as well agreed the thick copper nose with the pale blue lips, in
forming the image of an aspirant to the Blocksberg[1]; so that two
centuries earlier, she would hardly have escaped the stake, instead of
being, as now, esteemed by Mr. Peregrine, and others too, for a good
sort of person. This, in fact, she was, and might therefore well be
forgiven, if she comforted her body with many a litt