"Poor Lady McAllister! she seems to have taken the thing very much to
heart. I hope she won't be disappointed, but I wish I hadn't come on this
wild-goose chase."

"You have come," said the elder, "so you had better make the best of it."

"Well, a precious lucky fellow this McAllister will be, if he exists.
Why, Dunmorton Castle with its woods must be worth half a million
sterling."

"Umph!" said the old man. "There is a condition."

"Yes, yes, but not a very dreadful one. Still, I'm not sure that I'd like
to marry Lady Janet myself."

"My young friend, your speculation on the subject is idle, for you will
never get the chance."

"Well, it doesn't matter," said his young friend philosophically, and
with a sentimental air, "my heart is another's."

"Ah, indeed! And who may the un--" (he had nearly said unfortunate, but
corrected himself in time) "fortunate damsel be?"

"Miss Sally Perkins. Yes, she is the girl of my choice. Oh! that I had
never crossed the briny ocean, so far away from Clapham and my Sally. The
Sunday I broke the news of my departure to her I shall never forget. It
was at tea; we were eating shrimps and brown bread and butter. She had
just poured out tea, and had eaten only two shrimps, when I told her I
was going across the broad Atlantic. She could eat no more shrimps that