serable and woebegone as I could possibly be, I heard a piece of
news one day which almost nerved up my halting resolution to bring
affairs to a final issue by speaking out again to Mrs Clyde--no matter
what might be the result.

The joyful intelligence was circulated by the pleased Lady Dasher, that,
Mr Mawley had at length proposed for her daughter, Bessie. It was time
for it, as he had angled around and nibbled warily at the tempting bait
offered him--like the knowing fish that he was--for months before he
would permit himself to be caught!

The curate had, doubtless, noticed at length that the damsel was comely
withal; and, his heart yearned towards her. The reverend gentleman,
however, had not been unobservant of the charms of other maidens with
whom he had been brought in contact, so, it may be presumed that his
heart had "yearned" in vain for them; or, peradventure, these had not
played with him so dexterously, when once hooked, as did the fair
Bessie--who had not been the granddaughter of an Irish peer for nothing!

Still, there is no object to be gained now in raking up all of Mr
Mawley's old conquests or defeats, ere his present "wooing and a':"--he
had been accepted, in this his most recent venture, and was engaged
explicitly--Lady Dasher taking very good care to inform everybody of her
acquaintance of the fact, in order that there might arise no such little
mistake as that of the curate's backing out of the alliance.

Her ladyship only wished for one thing more to make her "happy," so she
said; and that was, that her "poor dear papa" were but alive, so that
she might tell him, too, about the coming event. This was impossible
though, as she added, with her customary melancholy shake of the head,
and a return to her normal expression of poignant grief; for, as she
said very truly, "one can never expect to be thoroughly happy in this
weary pilgrimage of ours!"

Her complete gratification would, certainly, have been little less than
a miracle.

The engagement was of very short duration, Bessie's mamma acting up to
the Hibernian policy of "cooking her fish," as soon as she had captured
him. There's "many a slip," you know, "'twixt cup and lip."

Mawley would probably have gladly lingered yet awhile longer amid the
festive scenes of clerical bachelorhood, flirting--in a devout way, of
course--under the shade of the church, with Chloe and Daphne, those
unappropriated spinsters of the parish who took plea