"Gone to bed! I must go and kiss her. Gone to bed, has she? Light
that candle, Lumley." [Here Mr. Templeton rang the bell.] "John," said
he, as the servant entered,--"John, tell James to go the first thing in
the morning to Baxter's, and tell him not to paint my chariot till he
hears from me. I must go kiss the child--I must, really."

"D--- the child," muttered Lumley, as, after giving the candle to his
uncle, he turned to the fire; "what the deuce has she got to do with the
matter? Charming little girl--yours, madam! how I love her! My uncle
dotes on her--no wonder!"

"He is, indeed, very, very, fond of her," said Mrs. Templeton, with a
sigh that seemed to come from the depth of her heart.

"Did he take a fancy to her before you were married?"

"Yes, I believe--oh yes, certainly."

"Her own father could not be more fond of her."

Mrs. Templeton made no answer, but lighted her candle, and wishing
Lumley good night, glided from the room.

"I wonder if my grave aunt and my grave uncle took a bite at the apple
before they bought the right of the tree. It looks suspicious; yet no,
it can't be; there is nothing of the seducer or the seductive about the
old fellow. It is not likely--here he comes."

In came Templeton, and his eyes were moist, and his brow relaxed.