pretty much as you want to."

"Dearest, I know you will," rejoined his charmer. "But the thing is now
to know whether your mother has seen Hope Wayne."

"I'll go and ask her," said Alfred, rising.

"My dear fellow," replied Fanny, with her mouth screwed into a semblance
of smiling, "you'll drive me distracted. I must insist on common sense.
It is too delicate a question for you to ask."

Mr. Dinks grinned and look bewildered. Then he assumed a very serious
expression.

"It doesn't seem to me to be hard to ask my mother if she has seen my
cousin."

"Pooh! you silly--I mean, my precious darling, your mother's too smart
for you. She'd have every thing out of you in a twinkling."

"I suppose she would," said Alfred, meekly.

Fanny Newt wagged her foot very rapidly, and looked fixedly upon the
floor. Alfred gazed at her admiringly--thought what a splendid Mrs.
Alfred Dinks he had secured, and smacked his lips as if he were tasting
her. He kissed his hand to her as he sat. He kissed the air toward her.
He might as well have blown kisses to the brown spire of Trinity Church.

"Alfred, you must solemnly promise me one thing," she said, at length.

"Sweet," said Alfred, who began to feel that he had dined very much,
indeed--"sweet, come here!"

Fanny flushed and wrinkled her brow. Mr. Dinks was frightened.

"Oh no, dear--no, not at all," said he.

"My love," said she, in a voice as calm but as black as her eyes, "do you
promise or not? That's all."

Poor Dinks! He said Yes, in a feeble way, and hoped she wouldn't be
angry. Indeed--indeed, he didn't know how much he had been drinking. But
the fellers kept ordering wine, and he had to drink on; and, oh! dear, he
wouldn't do so again if Fanny would only forgive him. Dear, dear Fanny,
please to forgive a miserable feller! And Miss Newt's betrothed sobbed,
and wept, and half writhed on the sofa in maudlin woe.

Fanny stood erect, patting the floor with her foot and looking at this
spectacle. She thought she had counted the cost. But the price seemed
at this instant a little high. Twenty-two years old now, and if she
lived to be only seventy, then forty-eight years of Alfred Dinks! It
was a very large sum, indeed. But Fanny bethought her of the balm in
Gilead. Forty-eight years of married life was very different from an
engagement of that period. _Courage, ma chere!_

"Alfred," said she, at length, "listen to me. Go to your mother before
she goes to bed to-night, an