wouldn't talk in such a puzzling kind of way, mother. What do
you mean about his knowing, and hearing, and inferring?"

"Come, come, Alfred, you are getting too cunning. Why, you sly dog, do
you think you can impose upon me with an air of ignorance because I am
so sleepy. Heigh-ho."

Another successful yawn. Sportsmen are surely the best sport in the
world.

"Now, Alfred," continued his mother, "are you so silly as to suppose for
one moment that Bowdoin Beacon has not seen the whole thing and known it
from the beginning?"

"Why," exclaimed Alfred, in alarm, "do you?"

"Of course. He has eyes and ears, I suppose, and every body understood
it."

"Did they?" asked Alfred, bewildered and wretched; "I didn't know it."

"Of course. Every body knew it must be so, and agreed that it was highly
proper--in fact the only thing."

"Oh, certainly. Clearly the only thing," replied Alfred, wondering
whether his mother and he meant the same thing.

"And therefore I say it is not quite honorable in Beacon to drive her
out in such a marked manner. And I may as well say at once that I think
you had better settle the thing immediately. The world understands it
already, so it will be a mere private understanding among ourselves, much
more agreeable for all parties. Perhaps this evening even--hey, Alfred?"

Mrs. Dinks adjusted herself upon the sofa in a sort of final manner, as
if the affair were now satisfactorily arranged.

"It's no use talking that way, mother; it's all done."

Mrs. Dinks appeared sleepy no longer. She bounced like an India-rubber
ball. Even the cap-ribbons were left to shift for themselves. She turned
and clasped Alfred in her arms.

"My blessed son!"

Then followed a moment of silent rapture, during which she moistened his
shirt-collar with maternal tears.

"Alfred," whispered she, "are you really engaged?"

"Yes'm."

She squeezed him as if he were a bag of the million dollars of which she
felt herself to be henceforth mistress.

"You dear, good boy! Then you _are_ sly after all!"

"Yes'm, I'm afraid I am," rejoined Alfred very uncomfortably, and with
an extremely ridiculous and nervous impression that his mother was
congratulating him upon something she knew nothing about.

"Dear, _dear_, DEAR boy!" said Mrs. Dinks, with a crescendo affection
and triumph. While she was yet embracing him, his father, the unemployed
statesman, the Honorable Budlong Dinks, entered.

To the infinite surprise of