kling, catching comeliness--although certainly
not in the refinement of manner which gives a quickening life and
grace to personal symmetry and beauty. James Dutton remained firm in
his theory of the worthlessness of education beyond what, in a narrow
acceptation of the term, was absolutely 'necessary;' and Anne Dutton,
although now heiress to very considerable wealth, knew only how to
read, write, spell, cast accounts, and superintend the home-business
of the farm. I saw a good deal of the Duttons about this time, my
brother-in-law, Elsworthy, and his wife having taken up their abode
within about half a mile of James Dutton's dwelling-house; and I
ventured once or twice to remonstrate with the prosperous farmer upon
the positive danger, with reference to his ambitious views, of not at
least so far cultivating the intellect and taste of so attractive a
maiden as his daughter, that sympathy on her part with the rude,
unlettered clowns, with whom she necessarily came so much in contact,
should be impossible. He laughed my hints to scorn. 'It is
idleness--idleness alone,' he said, 'that puts love-fancies into
girls' heads. Novel-reading, jingling at a pianoforte--merely other
names for idleness--these are the parents of such follies. Anne
Dutton, as mistress of this establishment, has her time fully and
usefully occupied; and when the time comes, not far distant now, to
establish her in marriage, she will wed into a family I wot of; and
the Romford prophecy of which you remind me will be realised, in great
part at least.'

He found, too late, his error. He hastily entered the office one
morning, and although it was only five or six weeks since I had last
seen him, the change in his then florid, prideful features was so
striking and painful, as to cause me to fairly leap upon my feet with
surprise.

'Good Heavens, Dutton!' I exclaimed, 'what is the matter? What has
happened?'

'Nothing has happened, Mr Sharp,' he replied, 'but what you predicted,
and which, had I not been the most conceited dolt in existence, I,
too, must have foreseen. You know that good-looking, idle, and, I
fear, irreclaimable young fellow, George Hamblin?'

'I have seen him once or twice. Has he not brought his father to the
verge of a workhouse by low dissipation and extravagance?'

'Yes. Well, he is an accepted suitor for Anne Dutton's hand. No wonder
that you start. She fancies herself hopelessly in love with
him----Nay, Sharp, hear me out. I