sixth;--"and break your heart," said a seventh.

Miss Helen Convolvulus was prudent and wary. She saw a great deal of
justice in what was said; and was sufficiently contented with liberty
and six thousand a-year, not to be highly impatient for a husband; but
our heroine had no aversion to a lover; especially to so handsome a
lover as Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy. Accordingly she neither accepted nor
discarded him; but kept him on hope, and suffered him to get into debt
with his tailor, and his coach-maker. On the strength of becoming Mr.
Fitzroy Convolvulus. Time went on, and excuses and delays were easily
found; however, our hero was sanguine, and so were his parents. A
breakfast at Chiswick, and a putrid fever carried off the latter, within
one week of each other; but not till they had blessed Mr. Ferdinand
Fitzroy, and rejoiced that they had left him so well provided for.

Now, then, our hero depended solely upon the crabbed old uncle and Miss
Helen Convolvulus; the former, though a baronet and a satirist was a
banker and a man of business:--he looked very distastefully at the
Hyperian curls and white teeth of Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy.

"If I make you my heir," said he--"I expect you will continue the bank."

"Certainly, sir!" said the nephew.

"Humph!" grunted the uncle, "a pretty fellow for a banker!"

Debtors grew pressing to Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy, and Mr. Ferdinand
Fitzroy grew pressing to Miss Helen Convolvulus. "It is a dangerous
thing," said she, timidly, "to marry a man so admired,--will you always
be faithful?"

"By heaven!" cried the lover.

"Heigho!" sighed Miss Helen Convolvulus, and Lord Rufus Pumilion
entering, the conversation was changed.

But the day of the marriage was fixed; and Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy bought
a new curricle. By Apollo, how handsome he looked in it! A month before
the wedding day the uncle died. Miss Helen Convolvulus was quite tender
in her condolences--"Cheer up, my Ferdinand," said she, "for your sake,
I have discarded Lord Rufus Pumilion!" "Adorable condescension!" cried
our hero;--"but Lord Rufus Pumilion is only four feet two, and has hair
like a peony."

"All men are not so handsome as Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy!" was the reply.

Away goes our hero, to be present at the opening of his uncle's will.

"I leave," said the testator (who I have before said was a bit of a
satirist,) "my share of the bank, and the whole or my fortune, legacies
excepted, to"--(here Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy