."

"Yes, thank Heaven!" muttered Nicholas, in an absent manner.

"Thank Heaven, Mr Forster!" cried the lady,--"why, do you wish to die?"

"I was not exactly thinking about myself, my dear," replied
Nicholas--"I--"

"Depend upon it she'll last a long while yet," interrupted Mr Hilton.

"Do you think so?" replied Nicholas, mournfully.

"Oh! sure of it; I stripped her the other day, and examined her all
over; she's as sound as ever."

Nicholas started, and stared Hilton in the face; while Newton, who
perceived their separate train of thought, tittered with delight.

"What are you talking of?" at last observed Nicholas.

"Of the sloop, to be sure," replied Hilton.

"I rather imagine that you came to consult about Mr Thompson's effects,"
observed Mrs Forster, angrily--"rather a solemn subject, instead of--"

"Ha, ha, ha!" ejaculated the curate, who had just _taken_ the equivoque
which had occasioned Newton's mirth.

"He, he, he!"

This last merriment of Mr Dragwell appeared to the lady to be such a
pointed insult to her, that she bounded out of the room, exclaiming,
"that an alehouse would have been a more suitable _rendezvous."_

The curate twiddled his thumbs, as the eyes of all the party followed
the exit of Mrs Forster; and there were a few moments of silence.

"Don't you find her a pleasant little craft, Forster?" said Hilton,
addressing Newton.

Nicholas Forster, who was in a brown study about his wife, shook his
head without lifting up his eyes, while Newton nodded assent.

"Plenty of accommodation in her," continued Hilton.--Another negative
shake from Nicholas, and assentient nod from Newton.

"If I thought you could manage her, Forster," continued Hilton--"tell
me, what do you think yourself?"

"Oh, quite impossible!" replied Nicholas.

"Quite impossible, Mr Forster! Well, now, I've a better opinion of
Newton--I think he _can."_

"Why, yes," replied Nicholas! "certainly better than I can; but still
she's--"

"She's a beauty, Mr Forster."

"Mrs Forster a beauty!" cried Nicholas, looking at Hilton with
astonishment.

Newton and Hilton burst into a laugh. "No, no," said the latter, "I was
talking about the sloop; but we had better proceed to business. Suppose
we have pipes, Mr Forster; Mr Dragwell, what do you say?"

"Ha, ha, ha!" roared the curate, who had just taken the last joke.

"He, he, he!"

"Why, yes," continued the curate, "I think it is a most excellent
proposition; this m