"No, the star he poked out. He's a awful star for females! hates 'em
like poison! I suspect he's been worriting hisself into her nativity,
for I got out from her the year, month, and day she was born, hour
unbeknown, but, calkeiating by noon, Herschel was dead agin her in the
Third and Ninth House,--Voyages, Travels, Letters, News, Church Matters,
and such like. But it will all come right after he's transited. Her
Jupiter must be good. But I only hope," added the Cobbler, solemnly,
"that they won't go a-discovering any more stars. The world did a deal
better without the new one, and they do talk of a Neptune--as bad as
Saturn!"

"And this is the last of her!" said Lionel, sadly, putting the book into
his breast-pocket. "Heaven shield her wherever she goes!"

VANCE.--"Don't you think Waife and the poor little girl will come back
again?"

COBBLER.--"P'raps; I know he was looking hard into the county map at the
stationer's over the way; that seems as if he did not mean to go very
far. P'raps he may come back."

VANCE.--"Did he take all his goods with him?"

COBBLER.--"Barrin' an old box,--nothing in it, I expect, but theatre
rubbish,--play-books, paints, an old wig, and sick like. He has good
clothes,--always had; and so has she, but they don't make more than a
bundle."

VANCE. "But surely you must know what the old fellow's project is. He
has got from me a great sum: what will he do with it?"